Chapter 436: The Boardwalk’s Screamer [8]

I ran alongside Maribel, keeping close enough that neither of us fell out of reach in the dark.

Honestly, I would have preferred she stayed hidden in the cabin with Carmen and Shannon. It would have been safer. But Maribel was not built for hiding while other people needed help, especially not when she had the strength to do something about it.

She had been a fighter long before the world fell apart.

I knew what she was capable of.

Still, the Screamer changed everything. Maribel could handle two or three Infected without much trouble, but if she got surrounded, her skill alone would not be enough to save her. Speed and strength meant nothing against numbers.

I just had to make sure she never ended up in that position.

"Was everything okay with Carmen up there?" Maribel asked suddenly.

"What?"

"You took a while," she said. "And she only grabbed a small bag. That shouldn’t have taken that long to pack."

I kept my eyes forward, scanning the street ahead for movement.

"She changed her mind about what to bring," I said. "It’s not like she was losing the house forever."

"Is that so."

Her tone made it clear she was not convinced.

I glanced at her.

There was no point avoiding it. Maribel already suspected something, and she was probably the only person who could actually understand what had happened without falling apart over it.

"I cured Carmen."

Maribel processed the words for a second.

Then her eyes went wide, and she stopped running entirely.

I stopped too.

"W-What?" she asked.

"She was bitten," I said. "On her arm. She hid it from Shannon, but when I went back to get her down, she showed me."

Maribel stared at me, her mouth slightly open.

"So that’s... that’s why it took so long?" Her face flushed red almost instantly.

"Do you want the details?" I asked, keeping my voice flat.

"N...No! I just—" She clenched her fists at her sides. "Damn it, Carmen..."

"At least she’s alive," I said.

Maribel let out a slow breath.

"Yeah. I know. I don’t blame you for it." She shook her head. "I can’t imagine Shannon losing her mom on top of everything else tonight. But... did it go okay? Is she alright?"

"Somehow," I said. "She accepted it. I think she understood there wasn’t another option."

Maribel looked at my face for a moment.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "I thought you kept these things secret."

"I do," I said. "With you and the others I did at first. But Carmen’s different. She’s a mother. She’s older than the others I’ve cured. I didn’t explain the Stabilization process to her. She thinks it’s already finished."

Maribel’s brow furrowed.

"You want me to talk to her?"

"Yeah."

"And explain... what, exactly? That she’ll need to go through something more later? That I went through it too?"

"I think it would help," I said. "Coming from you, it might feel less overwhelming than hearing it all from me."

Maribel crossed her arms.

"You want me to tell her I’m part of this too."

"It’s up to you," I said. "Think about it. I’m not asking you to decide right now."

"Ryan—"

"Let’s focus on what’s in front of us first," I cut in, glancing toward the street ahead.

I started moving again before she could argue further.

Maribel exhaled sharply and followed, catching up within a few steps.

"You must be dealing with a lot tonight," she said after a moment. "I can’t imagine how Carmen must be feeling right now. Or how you feel every time this happens."

"It’s always complicated," I admitted. "But without it, Carmen would’ve died. That mattered more than anything else in that moment."

Maribel nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said. "It did."

We kept running, the Screamer’s buzzing growing louder as we moved deeper into the Boardwalk.

The closer Maribel and I got to the hotel, the worse the streets became.

The Screamer’s buzzing followed us everywhere.

Sometimes it sounded far away, muffled behind buildings and barricades. Then we would turn a corner and it would suddenly grow louder again, vibrating through the pavement beneath our feet.

Every street seemed to lead us into more Infected.

We avoided the first group by cutting through a narrow passage between two abandoned stores. The alley smelled of wet trash and old blood, and the flashlight beam shook across broken crates and rusted metal bins as Maribel ran beside me.

Behind us, several Infected rushed past the alley entrance.

They did not notice us at first.

Then one stopped.

Its head turned sharply toward the sound of our breathing.

"Run," I whispered.

Maribel did not need to be told twice.

We sprinted deeper into the alley as the Infected shrieked behind us. Their footsteps slapped against the pavement, fast and uneven, followed by the scraping sound of hands striking the walls as they forced themselves through the narrow space.

At the end of the alley stood a locked metal gate.

"Damn it," Maribel muttered.

I stepped forward, grabbed the chain wrapped around it, and pulled.

The lock snapped after one hard tug from my Symbiote-enhanced arm.

I shoved the gate open.

"Go!"

Maribel slipped through first. I followed, pulling the gate shut behind me just as the first Infected reached it.

It slammed into the metal.

The impact rattled through my arms.

I did not wait to see if it would hold.

We ran into the next street, moving between dark buildings and overturned carts. A few scattered lights burned behind boarded windows, but nobody opened a door. People had heard the Screamer. They had heard the gunshots.

They knew better than to step outside.

An Infected appeared ahead of us.

It stumbled out from behind a wrecked car, its head twitching as the buzzing sound pulled at it. It did not see us immediately.

I grabbed Maribel’s sleeve and pulled her behind the vehicle with me.

We crouched low.

The Infected stood only a few feet away, swaying as it listened.

Its clothes were soaked through. Blood covered one side of its face. Its fingers twitched at its sides, and every few seconds, it let out a thin, broken growl.

Maribel lifted the Beretta.

I caught her wrist.

"No."

She looked at me.

"Gunshot will bring more," I mouthed.

Maribel’s jaw tightened, but she lowered the gun.

We waited.

The Infected finally moved again, drawn toward the stronger sound coming from the center of the Boardwalk. Once it disappeared around the next corner, I motioned for Maribel to follow.

We crossed the street.

Then another group came from the left.

Five Infected.

No, six.

They ran toward us from farther down the road, moving too quickly for us to slip away unnoticed. Their feet pounded against the pavement, and their snarls cut through the Screamer’s constant buzzing.

"Behind me," I said.

Maribel stepped back.

The first Infected reached us.

I swung the hand axe into its head and pulled it free as its body crumpled. The second lunged for my shoulder. I caught it by the throat, twisted, and threw it into the third.

They crashed into the side of an abandoned delivery van.

Maribel fired once.

The gunshot rang through the street.

One of the Infected dropped.

The others jerked toward the noise.

"Sorry," she said.

"Just keep moving!"

I drove my foot into the nearest Infected and sent it stumbling back. Wind gathered around my right arm, dark-green blades spinning close enough to tear apart the loose fabric around my sleeve.

I swung my fist forward.

A burst of wind smashed into the group.

The force threw two Infected across the street and slammed another against the van hard enough to cave in part of its door. I did not stay to see whether they rose again.

I grabbed Maribel’s hand.

We ran.

The streets near the Hotel were crowded with people now.

Not civilians wandering around.

Survivors were trying to reach the hotel from nearby homes and shops. Some moved in small groups with weapons in their hands. Others carried children or helped injured people limp forward. A few guards were trying to direct everyone through the safer streets, but the Infected kept breaking through from side roads.

The Emerald Hotel came into view beyond the buildings.

Its upper floors stood dark against the night sky. The main entrance had been barricaded, but lights shone behind the lower windows, and figures moved along the upper balconies.

At least people were still inside.

Then a loud voice cut through the chaos.

"BACK UP! GET AWAY FROM THE BARRICADE!"

Marlon.

I recognized him immediately.

The shout came from the street near the hotel entrance, sharp and angry enough to carry over the Screamer and gunfire.

Maribel looked toward the sound.

"Marlon," she said.

I tightened my grip on the axe.

"Come on."

We rushed toward him.