The driver—a middle-aged, obese guy with greasy hair—honks the horn aggressively.
“What’s he doing?” Krista says, stretching her neck like everybody else. “Is someone blocking the way?”
Mille also tries to see, but she and Krista are sitting almost all the way in the back, so there’s no way of getting a glimpse of what’s going on up front. But they’ve stopped in the middle of a desolate highway, open fields to one side, a forest to the other, so Mille can’t really imagine who would be blocking the way. Except a dog, maybe. Or a deer, perhaps. It could have wandered out from the trees.
The she hears someone up front exclaim: “There’s a lady out there!”
Mille gets a glimpse of the driver getting up and pushing the button to open the door. He looks worried as he trudges down the steps and leaves the bus.
“Jeez, what happened to her?” someone calls out.
“She must’ve been in an accident,” someone else answers.
Mads has gotten up from his seat and walked halfway up through the bus. He’s peering out the front window. Then, suddenly, he shouts: “No, don’t go over there! Come back inside, man! That’s a fucking zombie!”
A few of the boys break into nervous laughter, not sure whether Mads is joking or not. And it would be typical of him to make a joke like that. But Mille can hear something in his voice which gives her the chills.
“What’s going on?” Krista asks again, grabbing Mille by the arm. “What’s happening up there?”
“I can’t see. I think—”
Something outside the window catches Mille’s eyes. She looks out to see an elderly man come staggering out of the forest. He’s dressed in his underwear, the pale, veiny legs visible. His wifebeater, which might once have been white, is now mostly brown due to the dried-up blood that seems to have spurted from the open crater in his neck. The man trudges resolutely across the road, headed for the bus.
He turns his head slightly up, and Mille sees his face, feeling a jolt of icy fear run through her body. The man’s eyes are empty and milky white. If Mads hadn’t just yelled out the word “zombie,” she might not have been able to find a fitting description for the person passing her window and steering for the front door of the bus.
One of the girls starts screaming up front. More of the students get up and start shoving each other to get to the front. Commotion ensues. The noise level rises. Confusion and fear start to set in.
Mille, once when she was very young, accidentally locked herself in her playhouse, and she panicked when she couldn’t get the door open. That same feeling of claustrophobia creeps over her once again in this moment, as she stares at her classmates tumbling over each other to get out of the bus and away from whatever is going on outside.
Got to get out of here. Right now.
No one came to help her back when she was trapped in the playhouse; she had to literally kick the door open. Surprisingly, the panic gave her strength, and she almost kicked it off the hinges.
No one is going to help her now, either, so she looks up and sees the emergency hammer. She tears it free of the holder and slams it against the window. The glass scatters but requires a few more hits before it loosens enough for Mille to push it out. Then, she drops the hammer and turns to Krista. “Come on, we have to go!”
Her voice almost drowns in the yells and the screams.
Krista doesn’t seem to hear her. She just sits in her seat, staring ahead. Mille briefly follows her gaze and sees the lady who has now made her way up into the bus. At first, Mille actually takes her for a man, since her head is completely bald, but the bloody night dress turns the picture around. The lady throws herself at the nearest student—Signe, as far as Mille can tell—who’s squeezing helplessly up against the window, screaming and trying to get away. Just as the lady sinks her teeth into the cheek of Signe, the man comes into the bus. He immediately bends down over Rasmus, who has fallen down in the aisle. He screams in pain as the man bites the back of his neck.
Then Mille can’t see anymore, as everything disappears into complete mayhem.
She grabs Krista by the arm and drags her along as she steps up onto her seat and leaps out the window. She lands on the steaming asphalt, breaking the fall with her hands. She turns to look up at Krista staring down at her.
“Come on! Jump!”
Krista makes a clumsy hop and Mille halfway catches her.
“We gotta go,” Mille says, pulling her along, but is surprised to feel Krista resist.
“We can’t,” she says, her eyes big and terrified. “What about the others?”
Mille looks up at the bus, the inside now turned into a living inferno, students screaming, desperately climbing over the seats, banging on the windows, spurts of blood staining the glass.
“We can’t do anything now,” Mille hears herself say, amazed at how firm her voice sounds. “We’ll only put ourselves in danger too.” She tightens her grip around Krista’s wrist and tugs her hard. After a few yards, Krista stops resisting and starts running along.
Behind them, the screams from their dying classmates grow only very slowly distant.
Mille pulls out her phone and dials those famous three numbers.
THREE
William just stands there for almost an entire minute, frozen to the spot in front of the locked door. His brain is racing away, trying to decide what to do, the music is still pumping from the headphones around his neck.
He’s most of all trying to discern the extent of the situation. If this really is the end of the world, why hasn’t everything turned to chaos? All seemed perfectly ordinary when he came to work less than an hour ago.
Perhaps it’s only just begun? Perhaps I’m one of the first to meet the undead?
William takes out his phone and checks Facebook and Twitter. There are no unusual posts, only the typical food and pet photos and people boasting about their boring lives. He also checks the news channels, both the Danish and the international. Nothing out of the ordinary there, either.
He glares at the door in front of him, the handle still jumping now and then whenever the zombie girl on the other side fumbles with it.
William looks up at the ceiling, imagining the many, many floors above him. How many patients are in the building right now? A couple of hundred? Maybe more. How many of them have arrived during the night? He didn’t hear anyone talking about a sudden increase in bite wounds when he came in, but then again, he didn’t really talk with anyone. Did he notice the place being extra busy? Not particularly, no.
But maybe I just wasn’t paying attention. Maybe I was like the guy in that British zombie comedy, just walking right past all the fucking zombies because I was too tired to notice!
The thought of the whole damn place turning into a slaughterhouse right this minute makes a cold shiver run down his spine. He feels a growing panic. He’s got to get out of here. Right now. But he hesitates.
Can’t just leave them like this. Someone might come down here and open the door.
He takes the marker from his shirt pocket and steps over to the door. Luckily, the door is white, so what he writes becomes clearly visible:
DANGER!
DON’T OPEN!
ZOMBIES!!!
Without really thinking about it, he draws a skull too. He’s always been good at drawing, and skulls are kind of his specialty, so it turns out quite vivid. Now the warning should be hard to miss.
He drops the pen and runs back towards the elevator. He hits the button to the ground floor. The door closes. William breathes deeply as the elevator goes up. He gets ready to sprint. He prepares himself mentally for whatever will meet him once the door opens.
The elevator stops. The door takes forever in opening.
When it finally does, William stares out into the hall. Everything is normal. People are coming and going. Calm music is playing over the loudspeakers. At the reception, two women are causally talking.
No blood. No screaming. No panic. And no zombies.
&n
bsp; So far.
William walks towards the exit.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
William stops and sees Janus, his colleague. He’s pushing an empty bed and sends him a knowing smile. “It’s not time for your smoking break yet.”
“I’m just … uhm …”
William blinks and has no idea what to say. Is it wise to tell anyone about the zombies in the basement? He risks creating panic if word gets out. On the other hand, he can’t just leave Janus hanging. He’s the one who taught William the job, and he really likes him.
“All right, listen,” he whispers, grabbing Janus by the arm. “You need to get out of here, right now. Something crazy is going down.”
Janus first grins, but then turns serious once he realizes William isn’t joking. “What are you talking about?”
“The whole building is in danger.”
Janus frowns. “You mean …?” He lowers his voice. “Terrorism? Is it a bomb?”
William makes sure no one is within earshot, then he breathes: “Some contagious disease. I don’t think the doctors know yet, but … they probably won’t be able to stop it. It’s deadly.”
“Look, man, I’m sure whatever it is, the doctors have it under control.”
William shakes his head firmly. “There are already two dead. I’ve seen them. Get out of here, man. I’m serious.” He darts one last urgent look at Janus, then he lets go and walks on briskly towards the exit. He’s still wearing work clothes, but the thought of going up to the changing room hasn’t even crossed his mind; he’s got his phone, car keys and cigarettes. That’s all he needs.
The revolving doors let him out into the sunshine. He looks around the parking lot. Everything seems normal.
So far.
He jogs to his car, unlocks it and gets in. He finds his phone and checks it again. Still no alarming news. Maybe the media does know about the threat, but has been ordered by the government not to say anything, so as to not spread a panic.
William just sits there for a moment and thinks. Now that he’s outside the hospital, he feels a little less trapped and slightly more calm. He considers who else to warn. He has a few friends in town, but no girlfriend. His only family is his mother, who lives in the Netherlands. And then there’s his uncle Holger, of course.
The thought of his mom in Amsterdam gives him an unpleasant idea. What if this thing didn’t begin here in Denmark, but someplace else? Perhaps most of Europe is right now under attack from the undead …
William calls up his mom.
“Well, hello, sweetie,” his mom answers in a bright tone of voice. “To what do I owe the honor this early in the day?”
“Uhm, hey, Mom. I just wanted to make sure everything was fine.”
“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
William doesn’t really know what to tell her. He can hear voices in the background. His mom is probably at work.
“Did they say anything on the radio?” he asks.
“About what exactly?”
“I don’t know … something about a virus, maybe?”
“No, I didn’t hear anything like that. Is there a virus going around?”
“Yeah, uh … it’s just some sort of flu, I think.”
“And you got worried about your poor old mom?” She laughs heartedly. “You’re such a sweet boy. Don’t you worry, I’m just fine.”
William feels a bit more relieved. He chats briefly with his mom, then ends the conversation by saying his break is over.
He takes out the packet of cigarettes and shakes out a Kings, lights it up and inhales deeply. He rolls down the window and spends a minute or so brooding.
What does this mean? Why isn’t there any panic? Maybe it didn’t really start yet. Maybe it can even still be stopped …?
He looks towards the building and drags thoughtfully on his smoke. What if the two zombies in the basement are the only ones so far? What if there’s still time to—
His thoughts are interrupted by the sudden blaring of a siren close by. William turns his head to see the gate of the A&E open, and an ambulance comes out, lights blinking and sirens blaring. Then another one. And another one. And another one.
William feels the goose bumps appear at the base of his neck and then slowly spread out over his entire body. The sight of the ambulances erases the last of his doubt. The catastrophe is real. It has begun.
He puts out the cigarette and calls up Holger. It only rings once before his uncle picks up.
“Well, good morning, Will.”
“Hey, Holger,” William says. “Listen, I need your help.”
“Sure thing! What can I do you for?”
“Do you still have your place?”
Complete silence on the other end.
“Hello, Holger? You still there?”
“Uh-huh,” Holger says, but with a completely new tone of voice. “I still have it, all right. But I don’t use it anymore. How come you ask?”
William shuts his eyes. “I think it’s best if I meet you there. Now. Right away.”
He can hear Holger hold his breath for a long moment. “Okay,” he finally says, as William opens his eyes again. “But why—”
A movement to the side. A figure comes rushing at the car. William screams.
FOUR
“Mille! Wait up!” Krista grabs her by the arm and forces her to stop. “Look! Someone got out …”
Mille really doesn’t want to look back, but she does so anyway. They’ve run for what feels like half an hour, yet they’ve only managed to put a couple hundred yards between them and the bus. It gives Mille the sense of being in one of those bad dreams where you run and run and never move.
The bus seems to be alive in the wavy rays of heat coming off the road. At first, she can’t see what Krista sees. Then, she notices the figure coming towards them. It could be Mads. Mille doesn’t like the way he walks, uncertain and wobbly. Either Mads is badly hurt, or—
Or he’s already dead.
“Isn’t it Mads?” Krista asks, squinting her eyes. “I think he’s seen us, Mille. He’s coming this way.”
“Come on,” Mille mutters, pulling at her friend. “We’ve got to go.”
But Krista pulls back. “We can’t just leave him!”
“The ambulance is on its way. I already called—”
“Look, he’s waving!”
Mille sees Mads lifting one arm and moving it from side to side.
He’s still alive.
Krista starts running back. Mille follows her hesitantly. Mads meets them halfway, holding his left arm tightly against his body. His T-shirt is stained with blood all the way down one side.
“You … you all right?” Krista asks, even though the answer is obvious.
Mads stops to catch his breath, swaying, and Krista grabs hold of him.
“It … it bit me …” Mads whispers, and Mille can’t help but see the gaping hole in his T-shirt. “It bit everyone … what the … hell … happened?” Mads seems confused, his eyes glazed and distant.
“I think you should sit down,” Krista says as she starts to sniffle. “The ambulance will be here in a minute. Mille already called it.”
“Mille?” Mads repeats dreamily as Krista clumsily helps him sit down by the side of the road. He looks up and focuses for a brief moment on Mille. The smile gliding over his face stings Mille right in the heart. “Hi,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised. Before she can think to answer, he closes his eyes and collapses.
“Mads?” Krista sobs, shaking him gently. “Mads?”
“It bit us all,” Mads repeats in a hoarse whisper, not opening his eyes.
Krista shakes her head. “I think he’s unconscious. Oh, no, he’s bleeding so much … what should we do, Mille? How do you make it stop?”
Mille doesn’t answer. She’s not hearing Krista at all. Something else has caught her attention. Over by the bus, another figure has appeared. It’s a girl, maybe Renée, judging from
the yellow top. She runs stumbling right out onto the wheat field while looking back constantly. Another person emerges from the bus. It’s the old guy, the one Mille saw through the window. His scrawny, blood-covered frame is very recognizable, even from this far away. He staggers after Renée who gives a shriek and runs faster once she sees him.
Mille feels her heart beating in her throat. Somewhere, Krista says her name. Mille just stares at Renée, who luckily is increasing the distance from her pursuer—right up until she stumbles and falls over.
The old guy speeds up, like a predator sensing prey, reaching out his thin arms eagerly as he trudges through the knee-high wheat. Renée just manages to get back up, when the zombie grabs her hair and pulls her back down.
Thankfully, Mille can’t see what happens next, as both figures disappear into the golden wheat. But she hears Renée’s scream.
Krista also hears, because she turns to look back. “What was that? Someone else made it out?”
“No,” Mille says.
The sound of a car horn makes her spin around. For a moment, she hopes it’s the ambulance, but it’s not. A silvery station wagon is approaching them and slows down. A middle-aged Arab sticks his head out the window and asks in broken Danish: “Accident happen? He hurt?”
“Yes!” Krista says. “You need to take him to the hospital …”
“Hold on,” Mille begins, but Krista has already started hauling Mads to his feet, and the Arab parks the car and comes running out to help.
At that moment, Mille sees the next person come out of the bus. It’s a boy—Tommy, as far as she can tell. But he’s not fleeing, like Renée did. He’s just standing still, swaying for a moment. Then he turns his head around and looks directly towards her. He starts staggering this way.
“… Mille! …”
Behind him, two others emerge—a girl and a boy. The girl stumbles, and the boy tramples right over her, not minding her at all. Then another one comes out. And another one after that. Soon, her classmates are all around the bus, all of them moving in the same, sleepwalker-like manner. At first, they seem to just drift around, but then, one by one they apparently catch a scent, turn in this direction and begin walking.
Dead Meat Box Set [Days 1-3] Page 15