Chapter 45: Almost Dead (2)
It was as if all the ’people’ on the entire street suddenly saw them at that moment, and mutants of all sizes rushed at them with hideous expressions.
"Run!" Birdie yelled. Revealing white wings, she grabbed Kestrell and flew. "Follow me."
She flew diagonally through the gap between two buildings, swiftly crossed a narrow alley, turned a culvert, and finally landed in front of an old building, jumping into the hallway on the second floor.
By the time the others climbed up, Birdie had already pulled out a key tied with a red rope from her neck. She inserted the key into the lock of an iron door and gently turned it. With a click, the door actually opened. Everyone went in one by one.
Before Tegnell entered the house, he didn’t say a word. He swung his knife and cut off the whole piece of skin on his arm that was wet with water, skin and all, and threw it into the courtyard.
The iron door was closed with a bang, and the swarm of small and large monsters that rushed to the courtyard went straight to the piece of flesh in the yard. They looted and fought, greedily swallowing, and finally circled around the blood stain on the ground for a long time, showing a confused look, and slowly regained that dull and leisurely pace. They mumbled repetitive words in their mouths, gradually took steps, and slowly left the courtyard of the building.
Birdie observed the situation outside the window through the gap in the curtains from within the room. Not until the mutants had left reluctantly did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Tegnell’s arm was bleeding profusely, revealing a horrifying sight of bare bone. Someone had already started to bandage him up with the tourniquet they had brought.
Without turning on the light, Birdie moved in the darkness towards the bedroom, taking a medical kit from a drawer. With a kick, she sent the box sliding to Tegnell.
Only then did the group find the time to examine the small dwelling they were hiding in.
The room was very small, a single room and living area. All the functions of a living room, dining room, and kitchen were squeezed into the tiny outer space, apart from the inner bedroom.
After finding the medical kit, Birdie also produced a blanket from the bedroom. She handed the blanket to Kestrel and then, familiarly, opened the refrigerator, distributing several bottles of beer among the group, excluding Muros and Kestrel.
She sat by the window, opened a can with a pop, and took a sip from the beer while observing the outside through the window gap.
Alphas usually couldn’t drink alcohol; the alphas in the Tower all drank a non-alcoholic beverage specially formulated for them. The conditions in the outpost, however, were different, and they all got used to drinking beer. The low alcohol content wouldn’t affect their performance but could help to calm their overly tensed nerves.
"Birdie, why are you so familiar with this place?" Muros couldn’t help asking.
Birdie took away his smuggled bottle of beer without saying a word. Despite Muros’ pleas, she did not give it back.
"This used to be my home, ten years ago," Birdie said, taking advantage of the boy’s surprise to confiscate his beer.
The room was dark and cluttered, lit by a streetlamp outside. The light illuminated Birdie’s profile and her relaxed fingers gripping the beer can, making it seem like she had always been sitting in this dark corner since forever.
Wrapped in the blanket, Kestrel felt a hint of fatigue and yawned quietly, "How long do we need to hide here?"
"If we’re lucky and aren’t found, it’s best to hide until the ’night’ ends," Tegnell replied, his arm bandaged up and drinking a beer single-handedly, his gaze subtly shifting towards Birdie. "We just don’t know if anyone will come back."
Birdie stayed silent and continued to drink her beer. After some time, all the alphas who weren’t on guard duty fell asleep.
Kestrel woke from a nap and saw Birdie sitting next to her. The short-haired woman leaned against the wall, twirling an empty beer can in her fingers. Her gaze was fixed on the window, lost in her thoughts.
"Ten years ago, this was a normal street with lots of people living here," Birdie suddenly spoke, her voice soft, as though she was afraid to wake the sleeping members of the group. "Back then, my mom and I lived in this place. My mom loved to drink, there was always beer in the refrigerator, she’d get drunk every day."
Kestrel asked, "Ten years ago? The time of the last big spread of the Zone? Did you escape from here then?"
"No," Birdie looked at Kestrel, putting down the empty beer can on the floor, "That day, my mom and I had a big fight. It was terrible, we fell out completely. I packed two pieces of clothing and ran away from home."
The empty beer can on the floor tipped over, rolling on the wooden panel, making a hollow sound.
Birdie watched in frozen silence as the past unfolded before her. Her voice, once casual and carefree, now blended with the chilling sound of an empty beer can clattering on the floor. "I walked for miles, never once looking back. That was why I wasn’t caught in the sudden expansion of the Polluted Zone. My mom, my neighbors, countless acquaintances—they all got left behind. Left in this godforsaken place."
The night was cool, and faint music echoed in the distance. Kestrel sat wrapped in a blanket, saying nothing. She simply listened in the darkness, her small tendrils obediently standing on ends, accompanying the two girls.
"I suppose it’s not that bad. Don’t look at me like that." Birdie seemed to snap out of her reverie, forcing a smile at Kestrel. "I bet my mom was happy when I left. She always called me a nuisance, said I was holding her back."
"She drank every day, living in a haze. Maybe it’s better for her this way, living in a dream-like world."
Suddenly, there was a sound of footsteps from outside the hall.
Thud, thud, thud...
The footsteps grew louder, closer. A hunched figure with long, curly hair passed by the window and stopped outside the door. Everyone in the room was awakened by the noise. All of them held their breath and tightened their grip on their weapons.
"Goldalyn, has Goldalyn come home?" A ghostly voice echoed outside the door.
Goldalyn was Birdie’s real name.
Everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on the door, daring not to make a sound.
After a moment, a sigh echoed from outside. All was silent again. It seemed that the "person" outside had left.
The alphas made hand gestures at each other. Two of them quietly moved, preparing to go and check the situation.
Suddenly, the sound of a key turning the lock echoed in the room.
Click.
