“No idea. I didn’t go to Hogwarts.”
Dan doesn’t seem to hear the joke. He just starts turning pages again.
Thomas goes to check on Jennie. She’s fallen still, and it’s almost like she’s just sleeping normally. But as he crouches down to feel her cheek, he finds it glowing hot. Her arm is dark and swollen, the skin abnormally distended and shiny. The infection obviously already reached the fingers, which are thick like sausages.
A memory comes to him. That night they met at the disco. He recalls the tinkling sensation in his stomach when Jennie slid her fingers in between his. He feels a deep stab of pain and sympathy.
Don’t think about that now.
He straightens up and takes a deep breath. Suddenly, he just wants to get out of here. Right now. “We need to choose one of the ways, Dan,” he says firmly. “I vote for the hatch. If it’s only a kid up there, it’ll be easier for us to get past it. Plus, if we break open the hatch, it’ll probably fall through. If we’re lucky, it’ll break its legs.”
Dan nods. “You’re right. Let’s try.”
“Maybe we need to look for something to use as a weapon …”
“How about this?” Dan takes something from the table which Thomas didn’t notice till now. It’s a huge knife, the blade black with dried-up blood.
“Holy shit! That’s the biggest knife I’ve ever seen.”
“I know, it was just lying here, next to the book. I think she used it to flay the animals.”
“Right, now we only need something to punch our way through the hatch. I guess this is our best option.” He picks up the iron pipe and goes to the ladder. He darts a look at Dan. “Would you keep an eye on your sister?”
Dan nods, his face solemn.
Thomas takes a few steps up the ladder and starts punching the pipe up into the hatch. It’s made of wood, and it’ll take quite some time to break through; his punches only leave small marks.
After a minute or so, he takes a break and rests his arm. From the other side of the hatch he can hear the scratching has grown faster and louder.
It’s helping me, he thinks and almost bursts into laughter. It’s trying to break through from the other side.
Dan has brought the book and is now sitting next to Jennie studying it.
“Dan?”
He looks up. “Yeah?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t … you know, be that close to her.”
Dan glances at his sister, then moves a few yards away.
SEVEN
Thomas has been banging away at the hatch for some minutes, when Dan speaks.
Thomas stops and looks down at him. “What’s that?”
“She’s written something in Danish,” he says, pointing to a place in the book. “It’s on the last few pages.”
“Huh,” Thomas says, not feeling particularly interested. Small chips have started coming off the hatch. He’s about halfway through, and he’s earned a short break, so he places the pipe under his arm and rests his hands. A couple of sore blisters have appeared on his palms.
“It’s very confusing,” Dan goes on, frowning. “But I think I figured out what the ritual was for. Listen to this ...” He starts reading aloud. “Seven lives are needed. Their blood must flow from them and find its way to the new veins where it once flowed warmly but now has turned cold. Once more it will flow with warmth and life …” Dan looks up at this point, nodding towards the table. “I think the animals were sacrifices. She killed them to bring something else to life.”
“But there’s only six of them,” Thomas points out. “Where is the seventh?”
Dan swallows audibly. “Get this. Farther down it says … Oh, my beloved darling. You most beautiful child. Your Little Good Angel is dead and gone, but your Big Good Angel can never die. It’s my fault. Take my blood so you can once again live.”
Silence falls over the basement, as Dan stops—except for the scratching noises from the hatch, and the ragged heaving of Jennie’s breath.
“So there was a child,” Thomas mutters. “And it died?”
“Yeah, I think so. Perhaps there was an accident. And then the woman used this ritual to bring the kid back to life. She needed seven sacrifices, and the seventh …”
“… was herself,” Thomas concludes. “Fuck me. It’s like something out of a horror movie.”
“The last thing she wrote was: Awaken, my dearest. I guess that was right before she did it.”
Thomas points to the hatch. “So that’s the child up there?”
“I think so, yeah.”
Thomas tries to process the information. “I guess that’s good news, then.”
Dan looks baffled. “How so?”
“Because this was where it started. It means the world hasn’t ended. Only this house.”
“But we don’t know if they have been outside the house.”
“If they had, why would they have returned? I think they’ve been trapped here until we came by. None of them were able to open a door or a window.”
Dan doesn’t exactly look thrilled. “So no one else but us knows about it. And if we die, there’ll be three more zombies in this house. So when the next poor guy shows up … they won’t know until it’s too late, and the zombies will get out.”
Thomas thinks for a moment. “You’re right. I guess it’s up to us. We can’t let them get away. We need to find a way to keep them here, until we can reach the police, and—”
He’s interrupted as Jennie suddenly gives off a loud, rasping gasp. She doesn’t open her eyes, but her face contorts into a painful grimace. The flies are crawling all over her.
“It won’t be long,” Thomas mutters. “We need to find something to tie her up with.”
He steps down from the ladder and goes to the first room to look. The best he can find is a piece of cord. Back in the other room he finds an old, rusty electric heater mounted to the wall.
“Help me move her, Dan.”
Together the boys gently drag Jennie across the floor. It’s easy, since she has suddenly gone completely limp and quiet again. Her skin is no longer particularly warm, either. Thomas figures she has slipped into a coma. He’s amazed at the speed of the infection.
He pulls the cord tightly to test its strength. It seems very strong, so he ties one end to the heater, making sure to do a few extra knots just to be sure.
This is where they always fuck up in the movies. Some fool doesn’t tie the rope properly, so the knot unties itself once the zombie wakes up and starts tugging.
Thomas ties the other end of the cord around Jennie’s ankle and makes it as tight as he can, with three strong knots.
Dan looks at his sister, a pained expression on his face. “How long do you think it’ll be?”
Thomas reaches out to feel her pulse. It’s very faint. “Not long,” he whispers. “We better keep our distance from this point on. Do you … uhm … want to say goodbye?”
Dan squeezes his lips firmly together. He kneels down in front of Jennie. Thomas doesn’t want to look, so he turns his back, but he can still hear Dan whisper.
“Jennie? I don’t know if you can hear me, but … I hope so. I’m really sorry this had to happen. I wish I could make it better. You … you were a good big sister to me. Most of the time, anyway.” He sniffs wetly. “And by the way … I was the one who hid your phone that time you couldn’t find it for three days. I did it because I was mad at you. I’m sorry.”
Dan gets to his feet and wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his T-shirt.
“I’m sorry, Dan. She didn’t deserve to die.”
Dan nods and walks to the table.
Thomas stays with Jennie for a moment, looking at her, feeling like he needs to say something, but unsure what. “I love you,” seems so tacky, so movie-like. Instead, he just whispers: “Bye, Jennie. Sorry we need to leave you like this.”
He’s just about to turn away, when he notices something different about her. He kneels down and puts a finger under her nose. No win
d. Jennie isn’t breathing anymore. He turns his head and looks at Dan.
Dan stares back at him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Is she … is she dead?”
Thomas nods.
Dan breaks down into tears. He slumps to the floor and sobs into his palms. “Why is this happening? Why us? Couldn’t it have been someone else who had to take out those stupid papers?”
Thomas feels a hard lump in his throat. The whole thing is still too surreal to take in. It’s gone way too fast. He can’t believe Jennie is gone—not really. It starts spinning behind his eyes. A sharp headache is throbbing right underneath his temples. He has never been this thirsty in his life.
He goes and picks up the pipe and starts banging away at the hatch once more. Then, Dan calls out his name.
Thomas turns around. Dan is standing a few feet away, stiff as a board, pointing to Jennie.
Jennie is lying in the exact same position; she hasn’t moved an inch. But her eyes are open. They’re staring up into the ceiling.
They’re blank.
But alive.
EIGHT
Thomas bangs away faster and faster. He’s no longer worried about the zombie child waiting on the other side of the hatch. He doesn’t register the dust or the woodchips hitting his face and getting into his eyes. He doesn’t even feel the blisters burning on his hands. He just wants to get out of here before Jennie comes back to life.
Dan has gone to the farthest corner. He’s just standing there, staring across the room at his sister, who’s still lying there, not moving, eyes open wide.
Almost through ... almost through ...
The muscles in his arms are aching. Between the blows he can hear the zombie scratching eagerly right above him.
And then it happens.
A piece the size of a fist breaks off. Thomas lowers the pipe, panting, and stares up through the hole. For a moment, nothing happens.
Then a milky-white eye appears on the other side. The dead gaze fastens on Thomas, as he feels his skin contracting all over his back. The eye disappears, and instead a tiny, greyish hand comes through the hole. Judging from the remains of sky-blue nail polish, the hand once belonged to a girl. The hand grabs and flails eagerly in empty air.
“I think it’s her,” Thomas says. “The girl from the photo album.”
Dan doesn’t reply.
Thomas turns to look at him, and immediately sees what Dan sees.
Jennie is sitting up. If he didn’t know better, he could almost be tempted to think Jennie’s body might have fought off the infection, that she’s no longer ill.
But one good look at her face is enough to break that illusion. The seventeen-year-old girl who less than half an hour ago was Thomas’s annoying girlfriend, is dead. The creature now sitting there, glaring around with an empty expression, has nothing to do with Jennie. It looks like her, but behind the eyes is nothing human; only hunger.
The Jennie zombie bares its tiny, white teeth and growls from deep in its throat. It starts getting to its feet with cumbersome movements, like an overgrown toddler.
Something flies across Thomas’s brain at that moment. He has seen a lot of zombie movies. In some of them, the zombies run around like people on speed. They can sprint, jump and even climb fences. But in other movies, they are slow and wobbly and move around like sleepwalkers. Those movies have always been his favorites, because the zombies are a lot more terrifying when they move slowly.
Jennie obviously belongs to that category. It takes her half a minute to stand up. When she finally manages, she immediately reaches both arms out towards Thomas and takes two steps forward.
For a moment, Thomas is certain the cord won’t hold. It will simply snap and Jennie will walk right over to him, put her arms around his neck, like she used to do back when they were still in love, but this time it wouldn’t be to kiss him—instead, she would bury her fingernails in his neck and bite off his ear. He sees it all very clearly.
The cord holds.
The pull of it is almost enough to throw her off-balance. She stumbles and snarls. Regains her balance and tries for another step forward. The cord stops her once more. She tries again. And again. She doesn’t look down, not even for a second. She’s not at all concerned with finding out what is holding her back. Her eyes are only fixed on Thomas. Her first meal, waiting right there, a few yards in front of her. She steps forward again. Is stopped. Again. Stopped.
Thomas forces himself to regain focus, and he looks over at Dan, only to see a boy who has obviously left the situation mentally. His gaze is distant, his lips are trembling, and he is absentmindedly shaking his head.
“Dan? … Dan! … Dan!”
Dan turns his head and looks at Thomas, his eyes coming somewhat into focus again.
“I’m almost through the hatch now. As soon as it breaks, we need to be quick—so be ready, okay?”
Dan nods.
Thomas turns back to the hatch in the ceiling. The zombie girl’s arm is still groping around for anything to grab. He directs another blow at the hatch. The zombie girl’s fingers brush across the back of his hand.
“Fucking hell,” he hisses and pulls away. “She almost scratched me … Get away!” He hits the zombie across the hand, hard. It only makes her grope more vigorously.
“Thomas,” Dan says, his voice is weirdly dreamlike. “I think the heater is coming loose.”
Thomas turns his head. The cord around Jennie’s leg still looks in pretty fine shape. But the electric heater, which he tied it to, has come off the wall at one end. Now it’s dangling crookedly off the wall, threatening to come off entirely with every tug from Jennie’s leg.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why didn’t I think to check the stupid thing was securely attached to the wall?
Desperately, he turns to the hatch again, hitting it three time in a row, the woodwork rustling with every blow. The zombie girl grabs at the pipe, but catches Thomas’s wrist instead.
He shrieks and pulls his hand away, staring at it. No scratch marks. But it was a really close call.
Jennie lets out a moan behind him. She pulls more eagerly now. As though she can sense she’s almost free. The heater is hanging by one stubborn hinge now.
There is only one thing to do.
Thomas jumps down from the ladder and steps towards Jennie. “Turn away, Dan.”
“What are you gonna do?” Dan croaks.
“Turn away!”
Dan turns away.
Thomas tightens his grip on the pipe. He looks down, not wanting to face Jennie. Come on. You can do it. It’s not Jennie anymore. Don’t look at it. It’s not Jennie.
He counts to three. Then he steps forward and raises the pipe. Just as he swings it, his eyes lock with Jennie. It takes off some of the force of the blow. But he still hits his target with an audible slam.
Jennie stumbles sideways and falls to her knees. It doesn’t seem to bother her, though. She simply gets back up and resumes her tireless effort to get to him.
Don’t look at it!
But he can’t help it. He stares at Jennie’s face. It looks all wrong. Like her skull has been bent out of shape. Her cheekbone is pressed inwards, the skin under her eye is bulging, causing the eye to squeeze shut. Her mouth is contorted into a crooked snarl.
Holy shit … what did I do?
Thomas feels the nausea come rolling up into his throat. He drops the pipe with a loud clanging. He can’t hit her again. No way.
He squeezes his fingers into his temples. What do we do? What the fuck do we do?
He looks up at the hatch again, and an idea comes to mind. It’s crazy. But it just might work. And he’s pretty sure he can do it. After all, he didn’t know the zombie girl like he knew Jennie. He hasn’t even seen her face. It wouldn’t feel personal. He hopes.
“Dan,” he mutters. “Hand me the knife.”
As Dan goes to the table to get the knife, Thomas uses the pipe to reach the towel that Jennie had been using as a pillow before she died.
She reaches for him hungrily, but he makes sure to keep a safe distance.
“I need your help,” he tells Dan. “I’ll catch her arm with this towel, so she can’t scratch us. Then you hold it while I cut.”
“Cut?” Dan asks, looking puzzled for a moment, but then he catches on, and his expression turns to horror. Still, he nods bravely.
Thomas goes to the hatch and uses the towel to catch the flailing arm. The zombie child starts struggling, but Thomas manages to wrap the hand tightly.
“Here,” he says over his shoulder. “Take it!”
Dan comes closer, reaches out hesitantly and grabs hold of the towel.
“Grip it firmly,” Thomas demands. When he feels sure Dan has a confident grip, he lets go, bends down and grabs the knife. Stepping back up on the ladder, he mutters: “Right. Right, here we go.”
He picks out a spot right below the elbow and puts the blade to the skin. He takes a breath. His stomach feels like it might turn itself inside out any moment. He tries not to think of the photos from the album.
Do it. Your own and Dan’s lives depend on it. Do it now!
Thomas closes his eyes and cuts. The blade sinks into the arm way too easily. It cuts through the dead meat like it is butter. He feels the cool liquid spurting out, drenching his hand and dripping onto his T-shirt. There is no audible reaction from the zombie child, and she doesn’t even try to pull back her arm. She just keeps struggling to get free of the towel so she can grab one of them.
Thomas cuts even deeper and feels the knife hit something hard. It’s the bone. He bites down hard and pushes with all his strength, wriggling the knife back and forth in a sawing motion. It doesn’t give, so he increases the pressure even further, grabbing the knife with both hands, leaning sideways, putting his whole body into the task.
“Come on, come on,” someone snarls, and Thomas realizes it’s him. His arms are shaking, his muscles are aching with the effort. The growling of the zombie child fills his ears.
Then, suddenly a loud crack as the bone gives. It’s more due to the pressure than the knife.
Thomas drops the knife and tumbles to the floor. Dan lets go of the towel and steps back. Thomas looks up, expecting to see a bloody stump where the arm used to be. But the arm is still there, still attached. Now it’s just dangling helplessly from the hole in the hatch. The fingers don’t seem able to open or close anymore. Dark red fluid is gushing from the cut and dripping to the floor.
Dead Meat Box Set [Days 1-3] Page 3