The thick security door opened and the chaos of the station beyond could be heard. A cop came stumbling backwards into the women’s holding cell area. People beyond the door were screaming, others shouting orders at the top of their lungs.
“Don’t come any closer!” a female voice could be heard yelling.
“What they fuck is wrong with them?” another said.
The cop ran for the cell, trying to fumble the keys off his belt with one hand, the other holding back the gushing blood from his neck.
“Oh god, oh shit, oh god,” the officer repeated over and over in a panic, but as the blood gushed it was obvious to Shavian that he wasn’t going to make it. His…bite wounds?… were too massive and as he slumped to the floor more bite marks could be seen down his back. Shavian’s head whipped back and forth from the dying officer to Junie who was still jittering her left leg at a rapid pace.
Then her leg stilled.
Junie stood up.
She walked to the bars and, crouching down, she reached out with her long thin arm and pulled the keys up on their retractable cable. On the first try she found the key that opened the lock, pulling the door back so she could step out into the hallway. Undoing the holder, she took the keys with her as she walked for the security door. Shavian was left no choice but to follow or be left behind.
“What in the name of God did that?” Shavian said softly as she walked beyond the half eaten cop; somewhere along the way he’d lost his pistol, his holster empty.
Junie said nothing but opened the security door and the flood of noise assaulted them once again.
The main room was a madhouse: desks had been kicked over and cops were huddled behind them, guns drawn as they shouted orders back and forth about them. Beyond the makeshift office desk stronghold there were cops down and not moving. Other people were crawling atop them, eating, ripping at their clothes so they could get to more flesh.
Shavian eyes rolled back at the sight and she fell to her knees, puking into a wastepaper basket. Having puked already today, it was mostly dry heaves. Junie was either not affected or simply did not notice the insanity around her. She stepped along behind the cops unnoticed and silent as she keys were stuffed into her pocket. Shavian tried to see where she was going but couldn’t figure it out. The idiot mute Elliott and Roger were in the next set of cells and she was going the complete opposite way from them.
Getting to the far side of the room she pulled her tactical mug from the desk of the detective that that arrested them and, not pausing, she walked right up to the large coffee dispenser and pulled down on the lever, filling her cup as a cop shot down one of the moaning invaders right next to her. She didn’t even appear to notice.
Turning around, Junie leaned back against the counter and took a sniff while more cops passed her in riot gear and holding assault rifles. Shavian watched on as Junie wrinkled her nose at the smell then steeled herself and took a drink. Despite it having to be hot, she kept downing the coffee and with every swallow the agitation in her eyes ebbed away. The calm serene blonde that Shavian had known back at the mall returned.
The cup lowered from her lips and Junie looked around at the scene they were in as if for the first time and frowned. “Damn they are moving faster than Elliott thought.” She sighed and walked over to a dead cop that was slumped against a desk with half his face chewed off and Junie pulled his gun free. “Come on Tall-non-fat-mocha, we better get the boys. “