Plagued by Nicola Barnett Page B

the gate and folded her
arms. She looked at him, frowning angrily. “I’m not going anywhere until we see
if she needs help!”
     
    Mark kicked the fence in frustration, swearing
under his breath as Sarah turned her back to him and walked up the path.
     
    “Sarah!” he whispered loudly and ran to her,
grabbing her arm and spinning her around. She looked at him, her face red and
her eyes were bright and wild.
     
    “I’m sorry,” Mark sighed, surprised at the passion
behind her anger, “I know I sound harsh Sarah, but we’re going to get ourselves
killed if we go in there.”
     
    “Well, if you hadn’t helped me, I’d probably be
dead now.”
     
    Mark fell silent. He looked away, contemplating
what she said. He hadn’t thought of that aspect. “It’s not our problem though,
Sarah. We can’t save everyone.”
     
    “I can try ,” she hissed between closed
teeth. She pushed past him quickly and ran to the front door. Mark yelled after
her but it was too late, she was already inside.
     
     
    ~
     
     
    Sarah had walked in without really thinking, her
anger and frustration at Mark had taken over and she’d done it to prove a point. How could he be so cold ?
     
    The hallway was dark and all the doors were
closed. Broken plant pots and the shards of a mirror lay across the hallway
floor. The wallpaper, that had once been white, was dotted with brown splash
marks.
     
    “I think we should leave,” Mark said, following
Sarah closely.
     
    “You leave then!” she whispered angrily.
     
    Mark muttered something under his breath but Sarah
caught the word ‘stubborn’ and it made her smile triumphantly to herself. Piss
off, she thought and mentally gave him the finger.     
     
    The crying seemed to be coming from upstairs.
Sarah paused in her tracks and waited for her reluctant travel companion to
catch up before slowly and quietly walking up the staircase. The beige carpet
cushioned their foot-steps. But every few steps the floorboards retorted with a
creak and every time, Sarah and Mark stopped dead and listened to see if their
noise had been heard. If the woman had heard them, she hadn’t stopped
crying. Her soft gentle weeping continued.
     
    Sarah reached the landing and looked around her.
There was a small hall ahead with a light shade of pink covering the walls. Framed
photographs of babies and children covered the largest wall. There were four
doors around the landing, all of them shut except the one directly across from the
stairs.
     
    Sarah looked at Mark and nodded her head towards
the open door. The crying was coming from inside. They walked towards it
slowly, Mark holding the crowbar tightly, ready to attack if anything went
wrong.
     
    As she reached out for the door, a loud crunching
noise came from beneath her feet. She’d stepped on a photo frame and it had cracked
beneath her feet, a couple’s smiling faces now marred by large, spider-web like
cracks in the glass. The man in the picture seemed familiar to Sarah, but she
couldn’t figure out where.
     
    The crying stopped. For what seemed like forever,
they stood there in silence and just listened, unsure of what the woman inside
was going to do. The air seemed electric with tension.
     
    After a while, Mark pushed passed Sarah and opened
the door slowly, crowbar at the ready in his other hand. He blocked the doorway
with his body so Sarah was directly behind him and out of the firing line if
anything was to happen.
     
    “Please don’t hurt me!” a female voice cried
weakly from behind the door, making Sarah jump.
     
    Mark pushed open the door — it was too late to
turn back now. A young woman sat on a bed in front of him, her arms covered in
purple lumps that oozed pus and blood. Her pink pyjamas were covered in brown
and yellow stains and her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. She was sweating
profusely.
     
    “She’s infected,” Mark whispered to Sarah, “badly.”
     
    “Please, just go away and leave me alone. I