The End of Everything | Book 8 | The End of Everything

by Artinian, Christopher

  She headed back into the narrow corridor, and straight away the sound of the creatures enveloped her once again. Her aches and pains continued to nag, but she concentrated on the task at hand. Wren stood back from the door that said, “Cleaner,” and unleashed a hard, flat-footed kick. She flew back, hitting the opposite wall, and a painful tremor shot through her body.

  OW! She gathered herself and stepped forward a second time before taking a deep breath and leaning into the kick. There was an echoing crack as the wood around the door frame splintered. Wren regained her footing and pushed the door further inward. She panned the torch around the tiny room and grabbed a hammer and two screwdrivers from one of the shelves, as well as a mop, and a sweeping brush from the back of the small enclosure. She took them back through to the shop then returned to the other door.

  She braced herself then unleashed another powerful kick. The door did not open, but at least she did not fly back this time. She kicked a second time, then a third, but to no avail. She let out a loud grunt as she booted the door a fourth time. There was no loud cracking sound as before, it merely juddered open. Conscious of the gradually fading torch beam, she rushed inside. It looked like something from another age. The room was obviously some kind of canteen, but at one end a poorly fitted partition separated a small office, presumably belonging to the owner/manager of the place.

  Wren opened the door to it, and even after all this time, she could still smell the faint hint of tobacco. She went to sit down in the chair behind the battered and chipped desk. She pulled open the top left drawer. There was an old copy of the Racing Times, two lighters, a box of ibuprofen, and a few pens. She took the lighters and tablets and placed them in her pocket. In the next drawer, she found a long, sharp letter opener. It had a contract cleaning company’s logo on it. Wren felt the weight of it in her hand before sliding it into her belt next to her knife.

  She moved to the bottom left drawer and rifled underneath a couple of lever arch files to find a stack of pornographic magazines. She kept the beam on them for a second. “Eugh, gross!” she said, jumping to her feet. I don’t even want to think about what went on in that chair. “Gross!” she said, louder this time, before moving on to the middle drawer. The torch beam was fading fast, and she quickly scanned through it to find nothing of any use before finally moving to the right column of drawers.

  It took her just a few seconds to establish they were empty. She left the small office and walked across to the sink unit. A bowl, plate and spoon sat on the draining board. Wren opened one of the two wall cupboards. There were a few mugs and assorted bits of crockery but nothing she could use. In the second there was a tin of minestrone soup and an unopened packet of fig rolls. She eagerly grabbed both then crouched down to see what was in the double cupboard under the sink. There was a small dustpan and brush, some drain cleaning fluid and an almost full roll of duct tape. Well, Dad did say that duct tape could fix most things, let’s see if he was right. She grabbed it and made her way back out of the room, down the short, narrow corridor and onto the shop floor.

  Wren lined her booty up on the counter and looked at it for a moment. She opened the packet of fig rolls and scoffed down a couple before taking two ibuprofen tablets. The fig rolls were a little stale, but at least they filled her belly. She grabbed another and ate it more sedately while she looked at the other items.

  If these were the most useful things in the place, it didn’t say much for her chances of getting out. She sat down on one of the stools and massaged her neck for a moment as she took a bite from another fig roll. She was stiff all over, and as she angled her head a little higher so her fingers could really get to work on her neck muscles, she froze.

  She hadn’t even noticed the ceiling up until this point. Why would she? It’s not the first thing anybody looks at when they walk into a room. Her eyes opened wider and then she sprang to her feet, grabbing the sweeping brush and climbing onto the counter. She moved the handle of the brush up to the tile, and it lifted revealing the cavity beyond. It was a suspended ceiling, but not too far above were the joists and floorboards of the second floor. If she could get up there, then there was a chance of escape. A smile lit her face. All hope was not lost after all.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Are you going to let go of my hand?” Robyn asked.

  “I don’t know. I think maybe I’ll stay like this for a while,” Mila replied, still unable to take her eyes away from the edge of the roof.

  “Come on, we need to get going.” Robyn stood up cautiously and pulled Mila to her feet. “We need to be really careful.”

  “No, I thought we might do the Schuhplattler.”

  “What the hell is the Schuhplattler?”

  “It is a vigorous German folk dance. Very popular at beer festivals.”

  “Funny cow, aren’t you?”

  “Ah, so I am back to being a cow after just a few days apart.”

  The pair smiled at one another then slowly scaled the roof until they reached the ridge tiles. They walked awkwardly along, straddling both sides, giving themselves the best chance to recover should they slip. The row of buildings was a long one, some of the roofs were sloped and others were flat; for the time being they would carry on as they were. It was not long before they came to a chimney. They warily held on to it and navigated their way around until they were safely on the other side before continuing in the same manner.

  It was not a glamorous way to walk, but it was practical and the further they travelled, the louder the noise of the creatures became.

  “Aha!” Robyn exclaimed.

  “Aha, what?”

  Robin sat down and scissored one of her legs over the ridge tiles. At first, Mila didn’t understand what was going on, but then she saw that the sloping roof they were travelling on came to an abrupt end. From their elevated position, there was a three-metre drop to the flat surface below. She sat down, mirroring Robyn’s actions, and the two of them carefully slid down the incline on their buttocks, finally climbing down onto the other roof.

  They walked across to the edge and looked down. The creatures were directly below them. Not a single one was looking in their direction. They were massed in the street, but their focus was on a narrow alley that was jam-packed with their brethren.

  “I suppose at least we know where my sister is now.”

  Mila just stared down in horrified silence. It was the first time she had seen the massive horde that had surrounded the lorry. She continued watching the beasts for a few more seconds then threw up violently.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Wren didn’t waste any time getting to work. There was a lot to do. First of all, she needed a weapon, something that wouldn’t require such close combat as the knife, the letter opener or the hammer. She climbed down from the counter and grabbed the mop. It looked old, but it was good quality. The wooden handle was solid and fairly hefty. She took the straight-edge screwdriver and chipped away at the end, finally dislodging the filthy mop head. Then she got to work with her knife. Within a few minutes, she had a primitive but effective spear. She swirled it around a few times, getting used to the weight of it. A fresh smile appeared on her face, it was not hugely different to the javelin that had been her go-to weapon on the journey out of Edinburgh.

  She took the silver duct tape and methodically wrapped it around the mop handle all the way up to the point. It felt good in her hands. This was how victories were won, one tiny obstacle at a time.

  She grabbed the hammer and the straight-edged screwdriver and climbed onto the counter once again. She used the brush to displace a few more ceiling tiles, tiptoed and grabbed hold of a beam, and then pulled herself up. Her muscles strained, but within a few seconds, she was on her back, with her legs hanging down, straddling the thick wooden joist on either side. Enough tiles had been removed for her to see what she was doing, and not even the powerful smell of rodent waste was going to affect her focus.

  Wren raised her back, clamped her knees around the beam
for support, and started chiselling away at the floorboards above with the screwdriver and the hammer. She had been through way too much to find her sister, and she was damn sure she wasn’t going to lose her again. I’m coming, Bobbi.

  chapter 24

  Robyn waited until Mila had finished being sick then stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on her back. “Before you say it, I know.”

  Mila looked at her. “There is nothing—”

  “Nothing we can do? Screw that. She’s alive. I know she’s alive.”

  “Robyn, I believe you. But we don’t even know if she is down there, in one of those buildings, or if she has escaped. She could be heading back to the lorry right now, she could be—”

  “She could be anywhere, I get it. But we won’t know until we get down that alley and figure out what’s happened.”

  “You aren’t serious.”

  Robyn turned towards Mila with resoluteness in her eyes. “I’m absolutely serious.”

  “Der wahnsinn … it’s madness, Robyn.”

  “No. No, it isn’t. Not anymore. Once it would have been madness. Back in Edinburgh, when I was just a frightened kid who’d just lost her parents and didn’t know one end of an arrow from another, it would have been. But thanks to Wren, thanks to you, it’s not. Not anymore. This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to create a diversion—”

  “A diversion like what got Wren into this mess in the first place?”

  “No,” Robyn said, sliding the rucksack from her back and pulling out the shotgun.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “Nothing yet. C’mon,” she said, turning around and walking across the roof to one of the skylights. The translucent plastic was too thick for them to see what was below, but it didn’t really matter, this was their one way down. Robyn placed the shotgun back in her rucksack and removed a crowbar, which she rammed into place between the plastic and the aluminium frame. One ultra-violent tug and an ear-splitting crack later, both women were peeling back the remains of the plastic and staring down into the gap. An expensive-looking desk lay directly beneath it, and, without discussion, Robyn crouched down, slid her legs over the edge of the frame and dropped.

  Mila just watched with her hands on her hips. “Robyn, think about what you are doing.”

  “I am,” she replied, jumping down from the desk.

  Mila stayed there a bit longer, and when she realised her friend wasn’t coming back, she let out a long sigh and began her descent.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  It was hard work for Wren levering up the first floorboard. To her delight, she found the upper floor was covered in carpet tiles, which were much easier to remove than a full carpet or rug. She discovered that once she had loosened the board enough, lying down flat and using her leg muscles made the job much easier. She had needed to switch joists a couple of times to cater for the full length of the board, but it was working, and that was the most important thing. This second board had been a little tougher, but as the sweat poured down her face, she could hear the nails screeching out of their holes, she could feel the wood beginning to give.

  Finally, it did, and several carpet tiles slipped out of place at the same time as the board flipped into the air with Wren’s foot behind it. More light flooded into the cavity and suddenly the foul-smelling enclosure was not so foul smelling anymore. Without pause, she jumped back down, gathered her belongings and proceeded to climb up through the cavity to the floor above.

  Her head popped out and swivelled around like a rabbit emerging from a burrow looking for signs of danger. There were none. She placed her spear on the carpet then the hammer and the rest of the booty she had amassed before climbing out herself.

  She ran across to the window and looked out. There were still creatures meandering up and down, looking for a clue as to where the loud bang from earlier had come from. There were too many for her to take on, especially with nothing but a homemade spear, so that left just one option. The rooftops of Inverness had been her salvation on many occasions, and now it looked like they would save her again before she left the city, hopefully for the final time.

  She collected her belongings and was about to walk out of the office when she stopped. A beanie hat and a canvas shopping bag hung on a coat peg by the door. She took the bag, placed her scavenged items inside, and threw the straps over her shoulder. As far as she was concerned, she was getting out of Inverness today … right now, but expecting the unexpected had kept her alive this long, so why stop now? The screwdrivers, the lighters, the letter opener, the fig rolls, the soup—they could be the difference between living and dying.

  She proceeded out into the hallway and stopped again. Dust covers, a step ladder and a plethora of decorating equipment were neatly arranged in one corner. The wall was half painted an ugly shade of yellow. Her eyes focussed on an almost full two-litre container of white spirit. She grabbed it and placed it in her bag. “If life’s taught me one thing, it’s that you never know when you’ll need two litres of highly flammable liquid.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Can you tell me what it is you are looking for exactly?” Mila asked as Robyn feverishly searched through cupboards and desk drawers. She glanced towards Mila irritably but did not answer.

  It was some kind of law firm, and judging by the furnishings, a successful one. “They’ve got to have something, somewhere,” Robyn said, moving from the open-plan part of the floor to one of the partner’s offices. Even after all this time, the smell of polish and expensive leather accosted her as soon as she walked through the door. There was a big black-and-white print of a yacht hanging over the desk and a replica model taking pride of place in a display case. Her eyes moved to a small mahogany corner cupboard with an empty decanter and six crystal glasses on top.

  “You are scaring me,” Mila said as she joined her friend in the doorway. “Please tell me what you are looking for.”

  “With a bit of luck, I’ve just found it,” Robin replied, heading quickly across to the cabinet. She crouched down and tugged the handle. “Locked. He must have some good stuff in here.” She pulled out her crowbar and snapped the door open.

  “This is your plan? Alcohol. I do not understand.”

  Robyn pulled out an unopened bottle of Remy Martin XO cognac and Johnnie Walker Blue Label Scotch. “You ever seen this stuff burn?”

  “Again with the fire? This is your answer to everything.”

  “I had a good teacher.”

  “What are you setting fire to now?”

  Robyn stood up and placed the two bottles in her rucksack. “Okay. This isn’t perfect, but I’m going to get the attention of those things using the shotgun, lure them further down the street, set fire to one of the buildings opposite and then—”

  “Stop! What do you mean lure them down the street? You’re going down there?”

  “No. We’re going to be on the roof. When we’ve got their attention, you carry on shouting and stuff, and I’ll do my best to stay out of sight while I head back here, make my way down onto the street and head across to the alley.”

  “That is a terrible plan. It will undoubtedly get you killed.”

  “Look! I’ve got to do something.”

  “I know, but just wait two minutes. Let’s think before we rush in.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “We have two minutes.”

  Robyn looked at Mila impatiently as her friend weighed the options. “Well?” she asked eventually.

  “Okay. You get their attention. Take them further down the street then around the corner. You stay with them; you keep their attention; that is the most important thing, keeping their attention. I will head across to the alley, but only if you manage to take most of them with you. You understand there are no guarantees this plan will work, Robyn. All you may succeed in is spreading them.”

  “I know.”

  “Gut, now let us move and hope for the best.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽


  Wren reached the cramped attic space. Like most attics, it was a dumping ground for old furniture, boxes of papers and Christmas decorations. She went across to the window to see the steep slope of the roof and the long drop to the street below where small groups of creatures continued to patrol.

  She’d never been in this building before, but she knew the unit next door had a flat roof as opposed to a sloped one. It wasn’t unusual in Inverness. Many of the buildings had been added to and adapted over the years. She had avoided using sloped roofs in her network of getaway routes simply because they added an extra element of danger, and in a city full of flesh-eating zombies, there were enough challenges without creating more risks.

  She let out a deep breath, lifted the handle, and attempted to open the window. Damn it! The attic had not been decorated in a long time, but whoever had done it last had carelessly painted the window shut. She retrieved the knife from her belt and methodically scored the joints then pulled again. This time, the frame shifted with a high-pitched squeak.

  Wren leaned out. Oh man, this roof is really steep. She stared long and hard before tentatively climbing onto the black slate tiles, she made sure not to look down. She kept a tight hold of the window frame and looked up towards the ridge tiles. She finally let go and steadily began to edge sideways, keeping her eyes fixed on the tiles and nothing else. She leaned forward and crab walked the remainder of the way to the edge before dropping the three feet down to the flat roof of the adjoining building.

  She let out a relieved breath. At least now she was on familiar ground. She looked across to where the vent duct had been that had nearly crushed her when she had tried to scale this roof from the loading bay; then, suddenly, something on the opposite side of the street caught her eye.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Robyn watched as Mila climbed onto the filing cabinet they had placed on the desk. Mila reached up and grabbed hold of the skylight casing before lifting herself up like a gymnast. Her legs swung wildly for a few seconds before she gathered enough momentum to hoist herself, swords and all, through the gap and back out onto the roof.