C7 The end

The following morning only three persons were left in the green barracks. That was himself, a burly man of about fifty years of age who answered to the name of Dimitri. He was a real bear of a man with a hard Russian accent. A guy you definitely would not piss off. And the little Marie was still there as well. They probably could not find any place for her to stay so far. Artificial and very bright light was streaming through the windows which was unusual for this time of day. Markus estimated the time to be around 06:00 a.m., so normally there should be breakfast served soon. But he had woken up form a loud barking cough which was audible from inside the washrooms. That was definitely Dimitri.

Marie was awake already as well and sat, on her bed clutching an old worn out unicorn. Markus did not like this cough at all because it reminded him all too well of the incident with Daniel.

So he got dressed and walked towards the door of the barracks in order to call for the guard. Let the soldiers deal with it because that is what they were here for after all. It was just strange that exactly this door was locked. Surprised he tried it one more time but the door was locked. So he tried to get their attention by knocking and shouting. Nothing.

Marcus started to shake the door harder. No reaction. Then he knocked on the door with both of his fists. Again nothing. No reaction at all, no sound from outside which would signal the guard’s presence. Only when Marie took his hand in fear did he turn away from the door and looked at her confused.

“Marie I can’t open the door. Listen, I’ll put you on the bunk bed right beside the door. There you’ll hide under the blanket and I will check on uncle Dimitri.”

The child thought about that for a brief moment and then she nodded. “But you mustn’t forget about me. You’ll have to promise me that.”

Marcus nodded. “I promise. Scout’s honor.”

Shortly after he knew her to be in this doubtful safety he walked to the other end of the barracks towards the washrooms. He had a really bad feeling about the whole thing, the kind of feeling that left the image of Daniel’s face disfigured by insanity flashing in front of his eyes.

While on his way he kept looking for objects he might be able to use as a weapon because he reckoned that there would be no help from the outside if it came to a fight. The only thing that was somewhat suitable was an old broom, which stood at the rear end of the barracks beside a tin bucket. It was better than nothing.

He had not yet reached the door, when the Russian already broke through the opening like a berserk, storming into the room. The sight of him was terrifying. Dmitri’s chest was exposed and ripped open by deep scratches. They were stretching over his entire skin like furrows made by a plow.

Reddish-yellowish spittle was running out of his mouth and his eyes were rolling wildly in their sockets. Filled with boundless rage and unrestrained by this alien insanity, he extended his muscular arms and bent his fingers into predatory like claws. His intention was clear and his target was Markus.

Markus froze in the middle of his movement and lost precious seconds because of that. Two more steps and the lunatic would grab him. Markus knew that he did not have the slightest chance physically against this bear of a man with the figure of a boxer, so he jumped to the side, trying to bridge the distance to the broom. Reaching it was his only chance. Dimitri was not able to react that fast and stormed like a raging bull two steps past him, before he came to a halt. Then he turned around, grunting in disappointment.

“Dimitri, damn it, stop that!”

That was all Markus could manage before tripping over the edge of the bunk bed. Meanwhile he was lying on the floor and saw how Dimitri was looming over him like a Russian tank. Panicked, he tried to crawl backwards towards the wall. To where the broom should be.

Why were the soldiers not coming, why would they leave him alone in a time like this? He had no time to answer these questions to himself because his assailant had reached him and was falling forwards for the kill. In Dimitri’s wide opened mouth, Markus could see jagged fangs, teeth that had become viciously eroded and broken by cavities.

The impact of the Russian followed only a tiny moment after Markus had hit his head against the wall, tilting the broom. That short moment, about a second long, was what saved his life.

The broom had tilted, supported by the wall and his Markus’ body, in an almost absurd pointy angle, catching with its reinforced metal end the ballistic Russian between the larynx and the roof of his mouth. Dimitri’s body was not even slightly slowed down by this, after all the man must have surely had about 220 pounds of dody mass.

However, things did not go so smoothly with his head. Markus watched like in slow-motion how the broom stick drilled through the roof of Dimitri‘s mouth, his inner skull giving in to the pressure. As a result the wood vanished in the Russian’s throat and his head bent far backwards until it snapped loudly.

Markus held his breath involuntarily, trying to protect his face with his arms, when the man’s body shortly after collapsed onto him. Collapsed? Markus needed a moment until he realized that his assailant had not collapsed onto him but was instead in a grotesque position, held up by the broom and straightened up halfway he flagged completely and was hanging motionless in the air above Markus with tangling arms like an impaled ape. More seconds elapsed before Markus realized that a mixture of blood, pus and spittle was coming out of the hole in Dimitri’s throat, running down the handle of the broom and dripping onto his shirt.

Immediately it was there again, the fear of getting infected and of becoming ill. The fear of dying. Markus crawled hastily out from under the dead Russian and literally ripped his shirt from his body. With a wheezing breath he examined his upper body but no slime had touched his skin. That however did not eliminate the risk of an infection completely. Maybe he had inhaled some drips of Drimitri’s spittle earlier already.

Hastily, he pulled his asthma spray from his pant pocket and quickly gave himself three puffs in a row, inhaling them deeply into his lungs. Immediately his bronchial tubes widened, clearing the way for cold, clean air. Maybe the doctors would able to examine him and ensure he was clean.

The Russian fell to his side and collided heavily with the floor. The metal bin toppled over with a chattering sound and stale water was pouring over the floor. Markus shook his head. Bile and blood were everywhere around Dimitri’s corpse.

Markus had to revise his idea of a simple examination because he had seen what really happened to the people who were diagnosed with this disease. They were brought directly to the brown or black barracks. The end.

Somehow there was a blockade inside his head, saving him from losing his mind. Sure, he was terrified already by what had just happened but he did not completely realize the consequences of it all. Time would pass.

Time did pass. Later, he would not be able to say anymore for how long he had been standing in the washroom, scrubbing his upper body, his hands and especially his face.

When Marie finally reached for his hand, he was red as a lobster already and did not even remember anymore how he had ended up in the bathroom. An unshaved bald guy with haggard eyes was staring back at him from the mirror.

Willingly he followed Marie back to the dormitory, where the dead Russian was still lying on his side. The blood, and there was a lot of it, was already drying up, giving off a metallic, sweet smell. Accusingly, the dead eyes were staring up at him.

Accusingly? Damn it, what was this Russian thinking anyway? After all, it had been he who started all of this. He, and nobody else.

The dead man’s gaze seemed to be focused on him, no matter where he was, so he pulled a linen sheet from one of the beds and covered the body with it in order to finally find some peace. But every time Marcus closed his eyes he saw Dimitri’s broken gaze. He had to get out of there as fast as possible. But he did not have the slightest idea how to do that.

Again, it was the six year old girl, who saved him from this predicament. “Hey youuuuuu, what are we going to do now? I’m hungry and thirsty and I’m a little afraid of the uncle under the linen sheet. Can we go somewhere else?”

Markus blinked confused and slowly came to. The little one was absolutely right, first of all they had to get out of here and get help. The entrance door was still locked and nothing moved on the other side. In order to draw some attention Markus started knocking against the door like a mad man and was screaming for help. But nothing happened. After what felt like an eternity he was sliding down the door exhausted and continued to sit on the floor.

“It`s impossible that nobody hears us. That`s not happening. Where is everyone?”

Suddenly he had an idea and jumped up, grabbed one of the chairs and ran into the washing room, where the toilets were at the rear end. There was a top-hung window in the middle stall. Just seconds later he stood on the chair and flapped the securing clip to side in order to open the window all the way. The little one was watching him excited.

“Marie, this might work.”

The fresh cold air sobered him up completely. One could not see the other buildings from here, but instead the parking lot for the civilian vehicles. He recognized his Defender at first sight because it towered above all the other vehicles to a considerable degree. The civilians‘ personal belongings would still be in the vehicles, if what the guards had said was true. His first thought was of his mobile phone.

“Little one, I’ll lift you out of the window first. Once outside, stay close to the wall and wait, until I’m with you. Do you understand?”

Markus reached down and pulled her up by her arms. Incredible how light the child was. Feet first Marie climbed out of the narrow window. When it was time for her head, she looked at him one last time placing all her trust in this one gaze. It was impossible to avoid this gaze. If he failed it would most probably mean her death. Then she hung by his hands, dangling about one and half meters above the ground. She landed on her feet almost soundlessly on the wet snow and pressed herself immediately against the wall. Markus poked his head out of the window.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes!”

Now it was his turn. Like Marie, he had to pass through the opening feet first and was hoping that he would not get stuck. It would actually get damn tight. Hips and belly were already hanging outside. Now he had to hold onto the beams of the window in order to not slip downwards. Sweating because of the effort he pushed himself forward millimeter by millimeter. Now the shoulders, arms, the head.

All I have to do is keep my arms outstretched, trying to wedge in somehow, in order to slowly slide out of the opening, without flaying my skin off and bleeding to death. No pressure.

Suddenly, the entrance door squeaked. Markus stopped bewildered and lifted his head. In front of him he saw the door of the toilet stall ajar. And there were now steps audible behind it, drawing closer.

“What the hell!” he uttered.

That was as far he got, because the door to the stall was kicked in so vehemently that Markus could feel the puff of air on his face. What he saw was an image of horror, so unexpected and horrendous that he could not subdue a fearful scream.

The dead Russian was standing in the doorframe with dangling arms, looking at him expressionless with milky eyes. The hole in his throat was clearly visible because his head could not be held up in an upright position anymore by his destructed spine, but instead it was flapped over to the side onto his shoulders in a disgusting unnatural way. Purulent, foamy liquid was running out of his mouth, nose and even from the hole in his throat. The entire man was covered in dark dried blood and was now stalking awkwardly like a wound up doll towards Markus.

Gripped by panic Markus now tried to get out of the window as fast as possible, starting to kick like a lunatic. He just wanted to get away from this insanity. But the Russian already extended his bulging hands towards him. Once he grabbed him, there would not be any escape. Then he would drag Markus back inside the stall and finish him off.

Being battered to death inside a restroom, somewhere east of Berlin, was not a pretty prospect.

The walking corpse, because that was what it was without any doubt, reached up and actually seized Markus’ pant leg. The hand closed up like a vise, letting the ankle seam to snap.

Then Markus’ right shoulder slipped through the window, taking the rest of his body with him. He was just able to turn his head to the side, scraping his ear bloody, and then he was outside. One endless second longer he dangled in Dimitri’s grip and then he fell to the ground like dead meat, beside Marie.

Markus was dazed from the unexpected attack, but his senses were snapped back by the chill of the wet ground beneath him.

While he was lying in the mud, he was trying to find an answer to how it was possible for the Russian to get back on his feet again. How?!

From the inside the thing’s wild hissing was audible. There was nothing human left. It unloaded its concentrated rage on to the dividing walls made of cheap plywood sheets and it did not attempt to follow him through the window, especially as it was doubtful if its bulky body would fit through the tight window opening at all.

“Marie we should see to it that we get out of here as fast as possible.”

He took the child’s hand quickly, running towards the Defender. They were lucky, the door was unlocked. At least this one time the soldier had told the truth. His entire belongings were in a plastic bag on the driver’s seat. Even his mobile phone. It only took a moment to notice that the battery was dead, probably because of the damn cold.

“Cutie, you sit down on the rear bench and wait there until I’m back. If you should see weird looking people, please sit down on the floor and don’t open the door under any circumstances. I’ll be right back. Do you understand?”

She looked at him with big eyes but did as she was told. Shivering he quickly put on his army parka and closed the door from the outside before he turned around in order to find out what had happened. He had just seen a dead man who stood upright and attacked him. And Markus was absolutely sure that this man had been dead.

One hundred percent.