Lydia Stone (putalydonit) wrote in undeadsiegeic, @ 2015-05-05 14:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | lydia |
WHO: Lydia
WHERE: Half Moon Resort
WHEN: [Flashback] April 26, 2014; afternoon
WHAT: Lydia's first encounter with zombies.
CHALLENGE: #1, a scene I wanted to write but didn't get the chance to.
The hotel was up in arms about something. Lydia had been trying to get answers for the past hour, but the lobby was too congested. It looked like the majority of the guests were scrambling to leave, angry and frightened and unwilling to wait their turn to check out. Many had proclaimed ‘fuck it!’ to hotel policy and hurriedly ushered their families out of the building. Seemed like those people had the right idea. Word was spreading that transport off the island was unavailable. Lydia hoped that wasn’t the case. She reached the elevators just as the doors opened and a tidal wave of people poured out, knocking her aside without apology. Cursing, she elbowed her way through and stuck her hand out to catch the door before it closed. It wasn’t safe to be on an elevator in an emergency situation, but the brief glimpse she’d gotten of the stairs showed that it would be even more of a challenge to get to the upper floors. Time was of the essence. Her daughters were up there waiting safely behind the locked door of their room. Everyone needed to regroup. They needed to get out of here. Bouncing in place, Lydia watched the floor count rise agonizingly slowly. The elevator stopped to answer a call one floor below hers and she swore loudly when the doors opened and people crowded in. They were going down, she was instantly outvoted in her own venture. One floor. All she needed to do was get one floor up. She could brave the stairs for one floor. Pressing herself to the wall, her shoulder knocking askew every piece of artwork she passed, she made her way down the corridor. At length the crowd petered out, most people either in line for the elevator or already making their way down the stairs. Lydia stumbled over abandoned luggage. She was almost to the stairs. Up ahead, a small cluster of people gathered around a prone body, all of them covered in blood. Lydia ducked past a screaming Asian couple headed in the opposite direction. At first she thought the group was performing CPR on the body, but as she got closer, realization dawned and it was like the floor dropped out from beneath her. She almost wished it had. Better than facing down a nightmare turned reality. Zombies weren’t supposed to exist outside of horror movies. Science dictated that there were many deadly viruses out there that could cause something like this to happen, but, safe in her little bubble of ‘that’ll never happen,’ Lydia never believed it was possible. Never believed she would be stuck in the middle of it. Never believed she would be standing there while a group of people devoured another. They were blocking the way to the stairs. Lydia cast a glance beyond them, to the safety of the stairwell. She looked behind her, too, back the way she had come and the elevator doors that were once again closing, taking another cluster of hotel guests to the lobby below. Movement out of the corner of her eye snapped her attention back to the zombies in the corridor. They had noticed her and, having grown bored (or finished) with the current meal, were eying her up for another. “Shhhhhit.” Lydia fumbled for the gun she’d tucked away under her sweater. The weather was too warm for it, but she hadn’t wanted to scare anyone if she didn’t have to. Hadn’t wanted to leave it in her room either. Calamity bred fear and rash decisions. She wasn’t about to get caught defenseless. Which was exactly how she felt right now. If these really were zombies, did horror movie rules apply? Headshots? Either way, it seemed wise not to waste the bullets (or her life) on experimentation. She fired off one round. Two. Both zombies collapsed, immovable. The rest continued to advance towards her. Worse still, the sound was attracting more. Lydia, eyes wide, watched as more shambling figures appeared in doorways, all staring at her with dead yet hungry eyes. She glanced behind her. There were a few blocking the elevator, too. To the side, a door stood open. Nothing had come out of there. She cast one last longing look towards the stairs, before backstepping quickly into the room and slamming the door behind. As she leveraged herself against the door and put the locks in place, she did a quick sweep to make sure she was alone and that there were no more entries where the zombies could get in. Undead hands pounded at the door, each one an echo of her rapid heartbeat. Trapped. She was trapped. “I need to get to my girls,” she whispered frantically to herself. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting off tears. It wasn’t time to break down. She could do that later, when Marigold and Ana were in her arms. She jumped at a particularly loud fist against the door. They were still trying to get in. Was there a way out? Could she climb the balcony? Gripping her gun tightly in two hands, she went over to the balcony to assess. Emeli Sande’s music blared from the back pocket of Lydia’s jeans and she quickly switched the gun to one hand, freeing the other to quiet the sound. It only seemed to agitate the zombies outside. She breathed shallowly, eying the door’s hinges, willing them to hold. She had to force herself to look at the phone’s screen, to see who was calling her. She’d nearly forgotten the damn thing was in her pocket. When Marigold’s name flashed at her, Lydia wasted no time answering. “Mari? Baby, are you okay? Are you with someone? Tell me you’re not alone. Tell me you didn’t leave the room. Do not leave the room, do you hear me?” “Mom? Mom, where are you? What’s going on? People are screaming outside.” Marigold’s voice was frantic and scared. In the background, Ana was wailing. “Listen to me. Don’t open the door for anyone, okay? Unless it’s me or your aunts or your uncle or Tenley. Understand? Please tell me they didn’t leave you and your sister by yourself. You need to keep Ana quiet, okay? I know she’s scared. I know you’re both scared. But you both need to be big girls and stay quiet. Something’s going on.” Mari breathed loudly on the other end of the phone, like she was trying hard not to cry or panic. “Okay. Okay. We’re in the room, we’re in bed. Everyone’s here. Are you coming back?” There was a moment’s pause. “Mom, I’m scared.” Lydia pulled in a deep, shaking breath. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Let the others know that I’m fine.” She chewed on whether to say where she was. If she did, there was a good chance someone - probably Ezra - would try to fight their way down to her. She didn’t want that; didn’t want to put the family in any more danger than they were already in. Instead, after a few seconds, she added, “I’m scared, too. But it’s gonna be okay. We’ll get out of this. Just stay put and I’ll be there soon. Have your suitcases and everything ready. We’re leaving.” How, she wasn’t sure. The fists pounding at the door seemed to have lessened some, like a few of the zombies had lost interest in her, but the noise outside hadn’t abated any. Through the whole conversation with Marigold, she’d been studying the balcony, trying to find an easy way up. Heights never bothered her and she was determined enough to climb - but would it be reckless to attempt? Was the need to get back to her family clouding her judgment for what she was capable of, what was smart? Lydia didn’t want to pause and think through the rationality of her actions. Marigold was talking, repeating things she’d already said. Lydia was only half-listening now. She needed to move. Who knew how long the door would hold. The balcony didn’t look too impossible. There were handholds she could use. As long as there wasn’t anyone at the top who was trigger-happy or would shove her off once she was up there. “Marigold, I love you. Put your sister on for a sec, please.” She waited until she heard Mari echo the ‘I love you’ back, and listened for Ana’s voice to get louder. Lydia choked back a sob when the four-year-old was on the line. “Ana? Ana, it’s Mommy.” The girl quieted her cries down to a whimper, obviously wanting to hear her mom’s voice. Lydia couldn’t take the time she so desperately wanted to take in order to calm the girl. A few seconds, that was all she could spare. “Ana, baby, I love you. Do you hear me? I love you to the moon and back.” Still the only response on the line was Ana sniffling. Finally a small voice said “Mama,” and Lydia froze with the phone to her ear, eyes glistening. If she didn’t make it back up to the room, those two voices were the last ones she wanted to hear. “I’ll be there soon,” she promised, before ending the call. Before she put her phone away, she made sure it was on vibrate mode, shoved it in her pocket, put her gun back in its holster, and climbed up on the railing. |