Clifton Falls: A Zombie Story [Part 1]

by Taylor, Lee Andrew

  He eyed them closely as they sluggishly moved towards him, fumbling quickly to find the right song before they picked up the pace. He knew he needed to shift his arse soon or risk being their second course, but the closer they were to him, the harder it was to locate the right track.

  “Come on! Come on! Where are you?!” he belted out.

  Sweat now dripped into his eyes, stinging them to blur his vision as the sounds of shuffling feet got closer and closer. He could smell the toxic breath lingering beneath his nostrils, causing him to crumble inside, but, as the zombies got to touching distance, a glorious sound was heard.

  Gary smiled as the words - ‘Well this is thriller, thriller’ - came through the earphones. It sent his mind into another weird fantasy as the zombies stopped their vicious-like approach to move in time to the beat of the music. He couldn’t believe that it worked. That the song was making them dance. He clapped out loud, laughing at the hysterical sight as the walking dead shook and swayed their bodies just like the dancers did in the original video.

  But his fantasy faded and he was sent back to the here-and-now.

  He rubbed his eyes to see clearly before narrowly avoiding a set of snapping teeth; pushing the zombie away to turn and run. But he slipped on the puddle of thick blood and crashed to the floor. He tried desperately to get up but his body was soaked in the slippery liquid, leaving him shivering as he slid on the floor. He lashed out to keep the zombies at bay, crying like he’d just woken from a bad dream.

  “Help me, someone, anyone!” he cried out as the zombies lowered towards him. “Get the fuck away from me.”

  He pushed back to give him some room before attempting to remove his sticky trainers, but the monsters scared him into just fumbling with the blood-soaked laces. He yelled again as he reversed out the door on his backside before eyeing the creatures to curse under his breath at not being able to untie them, seething after seeing the fifty-foot gap he’d made slowly decrease.

  He bit his lip as the zombies closed in another ten feet, feeling his heart burning hotter by the second as he nervously slipped a trainer heel away from his foot. He was thankful to see the footwear fall to the floor, but the creatures were almost on top of him again, leaving him choking from their dead stench.

  He sweated even more as they gained another ten feet; the sight of their naked bodies drooling and groaning making him want to crawl up in a ball and admit defeat. But, he breathed in deeply and pulled on the other trainer. He shook and screamed at the zombies until the blood-drenched piece of footwear flew through the air to bounce off Vincent’s head, sending his zombified corpse off track to walk into a wall before falling over.

  Gary reversed on his arse some more before quickly lifting off the floor, but, as he ran towards the nearest exit, his I-phone disconnected from the earphones and fell to the ground, still blasting out music to distract the zombies. But Gary didn’t look back. He was running for his life.

  Vincent slapped colour fading hands onto the floor in an attempt to reach the phone, twitching ears as the sound bounced off the walls. The ex-banker grinned as it touched it before scrolling down the playlist like it was reading braille, changing the song as it rose off the floor.

  The last thing Gary heard was the ‘Thriller’ song playing for real.

  He raced around a corner to gain some distance as the zombies danced like they were in a dance-off; returning to looking like scary monsters once the track ended.

  They sniffed the air, searching for Gary’s scent; locating it before moving down the corridor, but, within a few minutes, they were stuck at the exit. There were only two ways to go if they wanted to reach the main hospital grounds; one was the elevator and the other the stairs. But none of the zombies seemed capable of working out how to achieve either.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Julie was still upset after witnessing the awful death of Frank, but she kept on working and kept on producing the smile she wore for the patients. She couldn’t let them down.

  She walked past the doorway that led down to the morgue, almost jumping out of her skin after seeing Gary frantically open the door, staggering towards her whilst muttering to himself. He was soaked in sweat and it frightened her.

  “Why do you not have anything on your feet?” she asked, gripping onto him as she listened to what he was trying to say. But nothing made sense. “And why are you sweating like you’ve been chased by a pack of lions?”

  “They are worse than lions,” Gary whispered, as Julie escorted him away. “Much worse.”

  She looked around for assistance but saw no one, so aimed for the waiting room and entered; helping Gary’s nervous frame to a seat.

  “Stay here,” she said, panicking because she didn’t know what was wrong with him. “I’m gonna look for Hazel.”

  She smiled at him as he collapsed in the seat, his eyes flickering like he was having a nightmare before slowly leaving him and exiting the room. She found Hazel within seconds, walking past after doing her rounds, but Julie now became breathless and couldn’t speak.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Hazel calmly asked, walking up to her. “Are you still traumatised? Do you want to go home?”

  “I need you to come with me now.” Julie tugged on Hazel’s arm. “Gary’s not well.”

  “Hey, calm down and take a deep breath,” Hazel replied, releasing Julie’s grip. “What do you mean not well?”

  Julie broke down, becoming teary-eyed as she explained what’d just taken place with Gary before rushing back towards the waiting room.

  “Quickly…He’s in here.”

  Hazel raced after her to enter the room, feeling surprised to see Gary in a traumatised state because he was fine when she’d spoken to him half an hour ago. But Gary wasn’t acknowledging her. He was lost inside a real-life nightmare, seeing those evil beings up close to leave him petrified like a lost boy. He wanted to shut his eyes and sink deeply into another daydream but had no chance of achieving it.

  Hazel sat next to him, holding his hand to feel the sticky sweat pouring out of it.

  “Talk to me, Gary. Tell me what’s wrong...Are you in pain?” She glanced down at his feet and sighed. “Where are your trainers? Where’d you leave them?”

  Gary stared at her distraughtly.

  He pointed towards the door before suddenly bursting into tears, leaving Hazel confused.

  “…Look, I can’t help you unless you talk to me,” she soothingly said, removing her hand to wipe the sweat onto her uniform. “What happened?”

  “Don’t let anybody go down to the MORGUE room!” Gary hollered; his words knocking Hazel back in her seat. “The dead have come back to life again…They’ve killed Colin and will kill us all if they escape.”

  The impact of his speech frightened Julie but Hazel wasn’t as convinced. She knew Gary had a drug problem, or he did have not so long ago, and he’d taken some time off work because of it. So, Hazel studied him. She watched Gary shake rapidly as more sweat dripped onto the floor; his actions making her feel convinced that he’d taken something recently.

  “What have you put inside yourself?” she asked him sternly, leaving her seat to stand next to Julie. “I can’t help you unless you tell me.”

  “Do you seriously think he’s on drugs right now?” Julie asked, feeling more worried than before. “I’ve never seen him take any.”

  “I’m afraid he’s had us all convinced…This looks like a classic case of drug abuse to me.”

  They saw Gary quiver in his seat, waving his arms in the air like he was fighting imaginary enemies; his eyes sore from constantly glaring at the door.

  “Come on, Gary, what have you taken?” Hazel asked again, hoping her words snapped him out of it.

  “Don’t go near the MORGUE!!”

  Julie puffed out her cheeks, feeling sad that she couldn’t help him as Hazel moved closer; checking Gary’s eyes to see they weren’t dilated as he kept his glare strong.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” she asked, s
haking him. “Colin’s dead…Is that what you’re saying?”

  “He’s probably having a bad trip?”

  “A minute ago I would agree, Julie, but I don’t think he’s high anymore.” Hazel turned to stare at the door. “I think he may be right…Something’s happened to Colin.”

  She rubbed Gary’s shoulder, hoping he would calm down and explain what happened, but her words messed with his head and he struggled to speak. He tried to get up but turned pale quickly and collapsed to the floor.

  “No, Gary, wake up!” Julie rushed from her mouth, sinking to her knees to help him. “He has to be lying about Colin, surely?”

  “I hope you’re right, but it’s a strange accusation to even think of saying, so we need to take it seriously.” Hazel grabbed a cushion from one of the chairs and gave it to Julie. “Place this under his head. It’s best not to move him right now.”

  “And the morgue?” Julie asked, squirming from the thought that Colin may be dead. “Do we keep clear of it?”

  “For now, yes.” Hazel shook herself to release negative thoughts before slowly walking towards the door. “I need to keep this hospital safe…I have a job to do.” She opened it and smiled at the unconscious man before turning back to Julie. “This may backfire, leaving me looking as stupid as a penguin wearing a dress but we need to get the police involved…Can you call them? And be discreet.”

  Julie nodded as she stroked Gary’s hair.

  Hazel soaked everything in and exited the room, leaving Julie now feeling alone. She waited a few more seconds to see if Hazel would do a U-turn, frowning because she hadn’t before rising off the floor. She then shakily walked over to the phone.

  ***

  George was still on duty back at the station when the ringing of the phone disrupted his flow. He felt pleased with himself for increasing his typing speed but was now moaning at having to stop. He answered the call but wasn’t given time to speak, as a timid voice on the other end exploded into words.

  “One of our workers reckons there are dead people come to life in the morgue and they have murdered someone.”

  George burst out laughing. The information was too silly for him to take seriously.

  He shouted over to Wayne, repeating what he heard, but Wayne didn’t react in the same way. Instead, he was stunned by the news and at how easily George gave out the information. Blake was still at the station and he’d heard it, meaning George’s stupidity had probably blown any chances of Blake believing Wayne’s latest bunch of lies aimed at how the Smythes died. But luckily for George, Blake was laughing also.

  “That’s a good one,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “Someone’s been watching too many Romero movies.”

  Wayne glared at George like he was imitating Medusa with the snakes in her hair, but, even though his glare was a worrying sight, George wasn’t turned to stone. But he did sheepishly hand over the receiver before scurrying off to stand next to Blake.

  Wayne apologised to the worried caller on George’s behalf before adding, “Explain again what happened?”

  “Gary told Hazel that dead people were walking around in the morgue,” Julie rushed from her mouth whilst glancing at the still unconscious man. “But we don’t know if it’s true because he’s fainted…What do we do? We’re worried.”

  Wayne gulped as thoughts of the splattered corpse mysteriously walking on the road dug at his brain. He now feared that person could well be linked to what Julie was saying. He knew he had to be professional and take control of the situation. There was no time to inform Mike.

  “Just stay calm and block off all entrances to the morgue…Make sure nobody goes down there. I’m coming over now.”

  Blake stopped laughing as Wayne finished the call, but he never said anything. He just watched Wayne swear at himself.

  ***

  Another member of staff headed for the same door that led to the gruesome and twisted figures before Julie was able to pass on the information. He opened it and slipped past, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  His name was Clive; an eighteen-year-old college student with long, greasy, dark hair. He’d been working part-time in the Pathology Department for a few weeks, doing shifts to help gain experience towards his exams; mostly doing the night shift because he loved how quiet the hospital was then. It was less stressful and he was able to concentrate.

  He walked along the corridor, entering the lift before closing the large, metal shutters, but the screeching noise was heard by the recently immobile creatures on the lower floor. They moved towards the sound, sniffing the tray of blood samples in Clive’s hand as he aimed towards the morgue to drop them off.

  The lift came to a stop and Clive exited, but his eyes suddenly opened to their full capacity after a sense of shock hit him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The floor was covered in bloody footprints.

  He cautiously continued to walk towards the morgue room, thinking someone was playing a trick on him; smiling cheekily after remembering the prank he’d played on Gary a few weeks ago.

  Nice one, Gary, he thought, moving down a corridor. Pranking me back.

  He kept up the smile as he neared the corner leading to the morgue room entrance, gripping the sample tray tight as he followed the footprints; ready to surprise the mystery practical joker. He looked ahead as excitement raced through him; his mind spinning as he quivered from thoughts of not knowing where the prank would lead. But, as he closed to twenty feet away saw no more signs. He sighed and lowered his head but soon lifted it after hearing a groan.

  If you want to play then bring it, he thought, tiptoeing his way to the corner before sucking up a huge gulp of air.

  “YEEEAAAAAAHHHH,” he roared, turning it to cough.

  But his plan to frighten the noisemaker backfired to leave him shaking from fear. He stared at the three, un-dead humans growling at him, feeling uneasy until not sure of what to do next. He sweated fast as his knees wobbled; his hand trembling to move the tray like a ship on a stormy sea as he eyeballed the incoming Vincent still holding the phone. But the zombie didn’t attack. It just tilted its head and roared back at him.

  Clive dropped the tray to see the test tubes crash to the floor.

  He quivered on the spot as the creatures acted like starving animals, dropping to the floor to rub fingers into the red juice before thrusting them inside their mouths; growling at Clive as the sweet taste reignited their desire to feast on flesh.

  They moved closer to him, swinging arms like drunks on a dancefloor, but none were able to grab him. Clive may have been numb to speak but was still able to think. He pushed Vincent into the others and headed for the morgue room, racing inside and slamming the door to hear his heartbeat thud against his chest. He sunk to the floor, choking on tears as the groans from outside shattered his confidence.

  “Go AWAY!” he bellowed, ramming his back against the door. “Who the FUCK are you?”

  He pushed hard until his spine hurt, hoping his weight would prevent the trio of filth from entering, but the zombies slammed hard against the door, leaving him bruised within seconds. He squealed until the pain became numb before wincing as more sadistic groans slipped underneath the door. He reached into his pocket to pull out an inhaler, quickly puffing on it as another THUD brought more tears to his eyes, puffing on it again after spotting the amputated corpse on the floor beside him. He couldn’t believe he missed it.

  He blamed the lack of seeing it on the terrifying situation he found himself in; the constant groaning and slamming on the door being the reasons to not notice. But, as the reality of what was with him inside the room slowly sunk in, felt his trousers become wet with sticky blood and puke.

  He stared at the stockroom, noticing the door was open; itching to move fast to reach it so he could hide. But, the sound of the phone ringing inside the room startled him, leaving him frozen. He stared at it as it rang out a few more times, feeling heavy thuds against his back as the zombies pounded on the d
oor before squirming in agony from thoughts of needing to move to reach the phone. But the chewed up body twitched, moving its head from side to side as if sensing someone was there. It snapped teeth in Clive’s direction, frightening him into almost giving in, as its only hand gripped the floor to pull itself towards him.

  The other zombies increased their violent efforts to enter the room, kicking and punching on the door to make Clive angry. He lashed out at the thing closing in on his leg, desperately kicking out at it, but his bum moved away from the door, leaving him unable to stop the creatures from getting inside. He flinched when the door slowly opened to reveal dead fingers reaching around; the sight crushing his energy as the phone stopped ringing.

  He couldn’t stop looking at the door opening wider as the torn apart zombie grabbed his right ankle. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to stop the others from getting inside.

  “What the hell are you doing with my leg?!” he yelled, shaking it to keep the creature at bay. “I’m no one’s dinner.”

  He clenched a fist and punched the zombie on the head, almost smiling as it released the grip before slamming his size nine footwear into its face, cracking its jaw as it rolled across the room. He saw one of the freaks force its way inside, hoping it didn’t see him as he dived across the floor to hide under a table covered with a large white sheet hanging over the sides. He shivered as he watched the movement of the darkened shadows beneath the cloth, hearing the zombies whine as if communicating with each other to say something in the lines of – Where did he go? – But he gulped nervously after spotting a bloodline lead to his hiding place.

  He closed his eyes for a second as another whine made his teeth hurt, but the shadows weren’t closing in.

  Hopefully, they haven’t noticed? he thought, backing away to the other end of the table.

  He puffed out his cheeks, eyeing the shadows as they moved further inside the room, eagerly waiting for them to leave enough space so he could escape.

  “Just a little more,” he whispered, smiling from the thought of finally getting away. “Just a few more steps.”