Without another word, he stormed from the restaurant, the door banging shut behind him, and Lauren turned back to find Mary shaking her head, “I don’t like that man very much”
“No” the nurse gave a smirk, “Me neither”
For a moment they sat chuckling softly, and then Lauren sighed, turning to Brandon, “Shall we get you back to the ward then?”
He looked up, closing his book, and rose, “Are we going to write a letter to my mum and dad and my sister…they don’t know where I am”
“Yes, we are” she smiled softly then turned to nod at the old woman, “It was lovely to meet you Mary…I mean that”
“You too dear” Mary nodded, then turned to wink at Brandon, a hand gesturing to Lauren, “And you young man, look after this one for me will you”
“No, she looks after me” Brandon frowned, glancing between the two women, and smiling at the old lady, Lauren gestured for him to follow her as she moved through the restaurant only to freeze halfway across it as loud shouts sounded beyond the door. Grimacing, she took a step back that brought her level with the table where the ginger man and the black woman were seated, a hand rising behind her to keep Brandon back as she frowned in confusion, “What on Earth…”
She screamed in shock, as did countless others within the restaurant as the doors suddenly crashed open and two figures surged through, colliding heavily with one of the tables, skittering chairs across the tiled floor. They landed hard, one atop the other and Lauren frowned; realising in shock that the one on the bottom was wearing the white shirt and tie of a security officer, his long hair tied back in a pony-tail, while his assailant appeared to be wearing a hospital gown, its bald head and bare arms and legs looking as though they were covered in hard white calloused skin like the heel of a worn foot.
Without warning, the hospital patient suddenly pinned the hands of the security guard to the floor, and sank its teeth into his face, head shaking as it tore away what looked like a lip.
With a snarl, it staggered to its feet, chewing upon the stolen morsel, blood running down its features and snatched up one of the broken chair legs, holding it before it like a primitive club.
“Hey!” a stocky man with tattoo’s and the uniform of a hospital porter took a quick step into Lauren’s peripheral vision, two of the other men from the restaurant beside him, a hand pointing at the enraged patient, “Drop it!”
With a snarl like a trapped animal, the patient raised its makeshift weapon above its head in both hands, milky beige eyes staring out from the coarse whiteness of its hard-skinned blank features, more of the beige liquid leaving tracks like tears down across its white calloused cheeks.
Then it brought the chair leg down, caving in the face of the security guard, the mans hands dropping limp beside his bloodstained body.
“No!” the word escaped Lauren like a gasped breath, her head shaking as she heard the cries of other patrons of the restaurant, the couple at the table beside her, now also standing in disbelief.
Then as if in slow motion, the patient raised its head to stare at those gathered watching it, its hard-skinned features, bald head and athletic build beneath the green hospital gown that it wore giving no clue as to its gender at all.
Time seemed to stop as it turned its head, teeth bared in a bloody snarl at the men who were now edging towards it, and then it charged them.
Chapter Three
Alice paused as she stepped out of the elevator, head turning as she glanced ahead, towards the stairwell that sat through the doors opposite her, her brow furrowed slightly, certain that she had just heard screaming from the floor below.
Taking a step towards the door, she narrowed her eyes as what sounded like raised voices drifted up the stairwell, the hairs on her arms rising eerily as she considered what might be happening. She knew that the restaurant lay that way, having just left it herself moments before, a sense of embarrassment and anger rising within her as she recalled the large security guard that had nearly knocked her over and then acted as if it had been her fault. More than anything she had wanted to step right up to the guard and tell him to go and fuck himself but that wasn’t her way.
For a moment she had thought that the young nurse with the glasses and the shoulder-length copper hair was going to intervene on her behalf and she had sent her a pleading look not to do so, a look that the woman seemed to understand.
Saved from a potential scene, Alice had tried to stand in line and order herself a drink of tea but had been forced to flee the restaurant in raw grief, overcome with sudden emotion as she recalled her reasons for being at the hospital.
Sarah was gone. The one true love of her life.
She flinched as what sounded like a scream floated up the stairwell, her head shaking as she forced herself from her thoughts, and without consciously doing so, she stepped back slightly.
Alice jerked and spun about as the door to the corridor beside her swung open, and the old man that now stood there raised an eyebrow as he saw her standing staring at him, “Are you OK?”
“Yeah” she nodded quickly, then frowned, “I am looking for the chapel of rest”
The mans face had split into a smile as he nodded, turning to point back through the doors that he had just left, “Follow the corridor, its near the far end, at the back end of the second floor”
Alice smiled in thanks as the man nodded and stepped towards the lift, then she turned, pushing open the doors to the corridor beyond.
Moving quickly through them, allowing them to swing closed behind her, Alice began to make her way down the long corridor, following it as it suddenly angled left, her gaze rising to study the multitude of ward signs hanging overhead.
She winced slightly at the smell of bleach and cleaning products that hung in the air, a constant presence in hospitals across the UK since the eradication of the virus that had decimated the world, an improved effort to ensure that it never returned. The Thames hospital, like the city in which it sat, was new, not even six months into use and it still carried that brand new feel to it, the markings on the floor still bright and unchipped and the paint on the walls still crisp and fresh, like a show home for potential owners.
For someone that spent a lot of time in the buildings as she did in her job, as an embalmer, collecting bodies from wards to take back to her practice, the Thames was a breath of fresh air.
Yet she wasn’t here on work business.
If only that was the case.
Alice winced as she considered her reasons for being at the hospital, her stomach knotting in grief as she recalled receiving the phone call from the doctor that morning, telling her about Sarah.
Dumbstruck, she had stood beside her desk, her eyes filling with tears as the doctor in charge of her treatment had listed the woman’s injuries, until finally, Alice had found the ability to speak, asking why it she who had been contacted.
The doctor had grunted at that, and she had almost been able to picture him glancing down at the notes before him before he spoke again, his voice thick with confusion, telling her that she was listed in the patients records as next of kin.
“Is that not the case?” the doctor had asked, drawing Alice out of the fugue state in which she had found herself and she had nodded, knowing that he could not see the action but doing it out of instinct as she had lied through her teeth to him.
“Yes, sorry, that’s right. I will be there as quickly as I possibly can”
And so had begun the unexpected drive down from Newcastle-Upon-Tyne to Thames, a journey of just one hour down the A1M, yet as Alice had sat behind the wheel of her black Nissan Qashqai, it had seemed to take a lifetime, her mind caught up in memories of her relationship with Sarah.
Four long years they had been together before they had finally parted ways, the pair unable to deal with each other’s mental health issues any longer, their love changing shape into friendship.
That had been two years ago, just months before the onset of the virus that had des
troyed the world and there had been many times as Alice had worked, snowed under with the amount of deaths, that she had wanted to rush back into the embrace of Sarah but it just wasn’t to be so.
They hadn’t spoken in several months, the last time being a happy birthday inbox that Alice had sent via Facebook, both promising to make more of an effort with the other, and Sarah had mentioned that she was moving away from Sunderland, where she had gone after their split to work in the new city of Thames as a teacher, and Alice had promised to make time to visit her.
Well now she was here.
And it had been too late.
Releasing a shaky breath, Alice stopped walking, her eyes fixed to the small sign on the left-hand side of the corridor, that said Chapel of Rest, a sudden uncertainty flooding through her core.
She had never been a church goer, yet there had always been a deep-rooted faith system within her, one that stuck to no strict doctrines, but which simply offered her solace in times of need.
This was such a time.
Nodding, as if to encourage herself, she stepped forwards, entering the doorless opening, and found herself in a narrow rectangle room set with chairs either side of a walkway which led towards a small altar. She winced as a woman with reddish-brown hair and glasses turned to study her, a sudden urge to flee washing over Alice as she realised that she had disturbed someone’s private time only for the stranger to rise to her feet, a handbag in one, a half-eaten sandwich in the other. Dressed in black trousers and a black blouse, bearing a hospital staff card, the stepped towards Alice, her voice thick with a Scottish accent as she smiled pleasantly, “Dinnae mind me lass, ah was just having my lunch, I’ll leave ye to it”
“Oh” Alice winced, unsure what to say in reply but the woman was gone out of the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her sadness.
Chapter Four
For a moment longer, Alice stood just inside the door to the chapel, her head turning as she studied her surroundings, taking in the rack on the wall beside her that had pamphlets for all types of religion in a large variety of languages.
She frowned, studying them all intently for a second, and then made her way down the centre aisle, taking a seat on the left side, halfway down.
Sighing heavily, Alice turned her gaze upon the small altar at the front of the chapel and the crucifix which sat atop it, wincing as if the eyes on the small figure of Christ were staring back.
Without giving it conscious thought, she bowed her head, hands pressing together in prayer, and with no warning the tears came, her throat swelling with the sudden onset of raw emotion.
Keeping her palms pressed together, she turned her face, wiping the tears from her green eyes upon her left forearm, and then gave a shaky sigh, trying to focus past the guilt she was feeling.
If only she had tried harder to deal with her own mental health issues, she could have helped Sarah learn to handle her own demons better.
If only she had fought to save their relationship.
If only she had kept in contact better, she might have seen the danger signs in her former lover.
If only.
The two biggest words in the history of mankind.
Despite the guilt which was settling about her shoulders like a blanket, Alice knew that the blame didn’t lie at her door, no, not completely.
But maybe, just maybe things might have worked out differently if she been more open with Sarah.
Maybe then she wouldn’t have jumped from the roof of the apartment building she called home.
According to the doctor on the telephone, the apartment building had been three stories high, more than enough to kill a person but Sarah’s plight had been made worse by the fact that she had crashed through the roof of a greenhouse, adding countless deep lacerations to her blunt trauma injuries, and she had been unconscious upon admittance, and lost a great deal of blood.
Heart in her mouth, she had driven as fast as she dare down from Newcastle, and raced inside the hospital only to discover, that despite it all she had been too late by nearly an entire hour, the doctor explaining that he had returned to Sarah’s bedside after contacting her to find she had gone, possibly before Alice had even got in her car.
Suddenly angry, the embalmer raised her gaze to glare angrily at the figure upon the crucifix as she shook her head, her voice little more than a whisper, “Where were you when she jumped eh? Where have you been for the last two years?”
Naturally, there was no answer, and she gave a bitter laugh, leaning back in the seat as she wiped at her eyes with her thumbs, imagining how Sarah would react if she could see her now.
She had always been mildly amused by Alice’s dalliances with faith, herself a lifelong atheist, and the pair had gotten in several deep debates about the subject which had always ended with Alice feeling belittled and mocked by her lover.
She winced as the thought occurred to her, guilt surfacing once more as she realised she was thinking ill of the dead, and then flinched as she heard movement at the back of the small chapel.
Turning, she winced in awkwardness at the man and woman that stood there staring back at her, the former closest to where Alice was sitting, dressed in a long yellow robe set with tiny flowers, a flowing burgundy scarf draped across her chest and shoulders. As Alice stared back awkwardly, their eyes met and the young woman, probably in her mid-twenties gave a nod, her sad smile bright against her soft brown skin, framed by long black hair that seemed to shine.
“Jiyaa” the voice of the woman’s male companion muttered, the tone deep, and letting her gaze drift from the attractive young woman, Alice studied the man, taking in his trousers, shirt and black turban, the beard that covered his features making him look older than his eyes suggested.
Turning towards the man, the young woman gestured to the chairs on the other side of the chapel from where Alice was seated, her voice thick with an accent as she spoke, “Opinder!”
The man winced, eyes glancing towards Alice, as he gestured for the woman to join him, “Jiyaa!”
Turning quickly away, realising that she was intruding on whatever had brought them to the chapel, Alice was filled with a sudden desire to leave, but standing as they were, she was unable.
Glancing down at the floor, Alice listened as a chair squeaked as someone sat down, and turning her head slightly, she saw the young woman now seated in the same row as she, on the other side of the small room, her eyes closed.
“Jiyaa” the man was suddenly moving to sit down at the edge of the row behind the woman, his legs half turned so that he was still blocking the aisle, his brow furrowed as he studied his female companion in what looked like exasperation, words that Alice didn’t understand leaving his mouth, quick and fluid. Unable to turn away, Alice watched as the woman took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling, but she kept her eyes tightly closed, clearly ignoring the man.
“You have my apologies” the man suddenly spoke, his head turning to Alice and she cringed, turning awkwardly in her seat to meet his gaze as he gave a grim chuckle and gestured to the woman, speaking in a perfect London accent, “My sister hasn’t been in the country long…she’s a pain in the arse…we’ve just lost our aunt Seemo”
“Oh” Alice nodded, unsure what to say, and began to turn away once more, then glanced back as the man gave a soft grunt of pain to find him leaning forwards, head facing the floor, “Are you OK?”
For a moment he stayed still except for his right hand that had risen to scratch at his forehead, drawing another grunt from him, and then he glanced back up, “I just have a headache”
She nodded at him, glancing at the young woman named Jiyaa but she was still sitting there with her eyes closed, hands clasped tight on her lap, then turned back to stare at the man as he began to scratch at his forehead once more, fingers pushing against the hem of his turban, and Alice cringed as she saw the thick, white, calloused skin that came into view, several pieces flaking away.
Grunting again, the m
an sat up quickly, muttering in the language he and his sister had previously been speaking, rubbing at his eyes with the balls of his hands before removing them to stare down in shock. Concerned, Alice followed his gaze, cringing as she saw the thick beige yellow liquid that coated them, like chicken soup flecked with blood, then she raised her gaze to his face, rising to her feet as she saw the same liquid leaking from the corners of his eyes, “Oh my God!”
“Opinder?” the man’s sister was suddenly there beside the stricken man, a hand touching his face and Alice shook her head in disbelief as she saw that the calloused white skin seemed to have somehow spread beyond the hem of the turban to cover the area above his left eye, pieces of beard dropping from him as he raised a hand to scratch feverishly at his face. Without warning, Opinder began to cough uncontrollably and dropped to his hands and knees in the aisle between the two woman and the door, his body convulsing violently as if he were having a fit, the force of his throes dislodging the turban he wore.
“Opinder!” the sister of the stricken man cried out, a hand leaping to grasp at her mouth in shock and without thinking Alice cursed aloud as she saw the calloused white skin covering the top of the man’s bald head, his dislodged turban appearing to be full of hair and white skin flakes.
“Jiyaa!” the man suddenly glanced up at his sister, drawing a scream from her and another curse from the embalmer as they saw his now beardless features, covered in white hard skin, his deep voice barely recognisable as he gasped, his eyes now covered with that milky beige fluid.
Then without another word, Opinder died.
Chapter Five
“How’s the knee, Moonshine?” Victor Doggart turned from where he was driving the Forestry Commission, dark-green Land Rover at high speed down the A66, grimacing as he saw the pale, sweaty features of his colleague and best friend staring back at him from the back seat.
Ghoul: The Beginning Page 2