Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever

by Winkless, Lance

  My M4 spits a bullet straight through the Rabids temple just before its mouth reaches its goal. Instantly, the creature’s back releases its head, to flop straight down and into the gorged-out hole in the petrified man’s torso, where it sinks in and comes to a stop.

  I stumble up the remaining steps to reach the halfway point to the next floor, where the gruesome scene is frozen in time. I try to be careful not to tread in any of the blood that is seeping down the steps or that is pooled around the dead Rabid and its meal. I am fairly sure that the petrified man is dead, but I fire a bullet through the bottom of his chin to be certain, his brain matter ejected, only adding to the slip hazard on the stairs. I think that my first instinct that he hit his head is right, because if he hadn’t, he would have turned into a Rabid himself.

  In my over-eagerness to leave the torrid scene behind me, I turn for the remaining steps up to floor seven. I am out of position; however, my rifle is not leading the way and my eyes linger too long on the blood and guts below.

  A Rabid launches itself at me from the steps above, stunning me. How long it had been watching me? I don’t know, for long enough, is all I can think as my camouflage from the undead slips and the baying creature hits me across the shoulders. Only the wall behind stops me from going down and hitting the ground. The blow knocks the wind out of me, nevertheless. In reflex, my hand releases the M4, which is useless down by my side and my arms push up to try and stop the Rabid’s frenzied attack.

  I lock eyes with the terrifying Rabid’s, and only rage and hate stare back at me. The creature’s teeth snap at my face, desperate to gorge on my flesh. Hands grip tightly onto my shoulders and I strain to keep the teeth away from me. The female’s long blond hair waves in the air as its rage increases and its head jerks back, ready to strike again.

  A chilling screech echoes out from the floors above as our fight continues and it is instantly followed by a clattering sound. Other Rabids have heard our struggle and even now are descending the stairwell, rushing to join in the feeding frenzy.

  Gathering all my strength, I push my arms up further, lifting the slender body of the female Rabid with them, my hands now gripping tightly under her armpits. The motion sends the Rabid to an even higher state of rage as its mouth moves away from its target and the flesh it craves.

  In one swift motion, I step forward, with the Rabid held in the air and push my arms out with all the force I can muster. At my maximum extension, I release my grip and throw the creature over the side of the stairwell, and with a whimpering screech, the Rabid plummets down through the air and smashes into the hard floor outside door six. The Rabids stocking-clad legs hit the ground first with a sickening crunch as its bones crumble beneath it, the force of the fall carrying it into the corner next to the door.

  Shriek’s blast of out the Rabid’s mouth, whether from pain or anger at the loss of its meal, I couldn’t say and don’t have time to ponder. The next attack is upon me and I reach down to retrieve the M4 from my side, quickly whipping it up to meet the threat.

  The first Rabid careers around the corner, its speed slamming into the wall opposite the stairwell’s handrail. The blow doesn’t faze the creature and it quickly scrambles to carry on its descent, its eyes fixed on me.

  I step to the side bringing the M4 to bear, the back of my foot kicking into the Rabid hunched over with its head sunk into the guts of the torn open belly of the petrified man. My aim is true and the M4 spits out a bullet at the Rabid above, the bullet hits home straight into the face of the Rabid as it is about to launch itself at me. Blood and brains splatter onto the wall and the Rabid tumbles down the flight of stairs, head over heels.

  Next to me, my kick has overbalanced the Rabid behind me and it topples sideways with a squelching sound, as its head pulls out of the soggy belly. I barely notice as that body bowls down the stairs towards the female Rabid at the bottom, still screaming.

  The Rabid that I have just shot lands at my feet just as another creature rounds the corner from above. This one rounds the corner with ease and speed, its left hand taking hold of the handrail to pull itself around efficiently. The speed of the creature takes it flying into the air before I have fixed it in my sights. I adjust my stance rapidly to get a shot away as the creature swoops down the stairs at me. My bullet misses its headshot, but my aim is low to ensure I hit something and the bullet blasts into the creature's throat. The creature’s body goes instantly limp, the bullet ripping through its spine, its control lost, and arms paralysed, the Rabid smashes headfirst into the wall behind me with a hideous thud, killing it on impact.

  My aim reverts back up to the top of the flight of stairs in a flash, and as the M4’s muzzle arrives into position, another target presents itself and I squeeze the trigger again. This shot is easy compared to the others, the Rabid arrives in confusion and hesitates at the top. My shot hits home, spraying the wall with yet more brain matter and the Rabid simply flops down, falling onto the top step, from where it slides and bumps down towards me, its body turning over as it comes.

  My aim stays fixed above as I wait for the next beast to arrive. The Rabid below with the crushed legs, wailing away incessantly, the piercing noise drills into my head, penetrating my brain. After less than a minute, I can take the noise no more and pull my M4 back, turn the rifle, aim, and shoot the beast through the forehead, cutting the sound dead.

  Within a couple of seconds, the M4 is aimed back up above, but nothing arrives to force me to put it to use. I quickly decide that the onslaught has abated, at least for now and I move to extract myself from the bodies I am surrounded by.

  This time, I ensure that I am in the correct stance, with the M4 leading the way before my boot reaches for the first step.

  Spots of blood have sprinkled every step on the way up to floor seven, they are impossible to avoid treading in so, I ignore them. The same blood covers the walls, along with body matter. Near the summit, whilst I take the wide way around, I make sure that I don’t brush my back against any of the walls.

  After checking door seven, I continue up slowly and cautiously, the M4’s muzzle floating to follow the movement of my eyes exactly. Arriving at floor eight, I immediately see the difference in the light through the glass panel in the door, it is in shadow. I edge closer, whilst keeping my distance to try and get a view through the panel. Something suddenly moves on the other side of the panel and I gasp to myself when a pair of eyes appear. The eyes don’t move for a moment but then they draw closer to the panel, until a grotesque Rabid fills the glass panel cut into the door.

  The face stares at me inquisitively, debating its next move. I freeze, hoping the beast will lose interest and wander off, even though I know it must be dealt with. The weight of the Rabid against the door begins to unintentionally push it open slightly, any moment now it will come through and into the stairwell if it meant to or not. The door moves again, forcing my hand and I take aim at the creature’s face.

  The bullet pierces the glass with a crack, leaving only a small round hole before it enters the Rabids head. Light instantly streams through the glass panel as the creature falls from view, and I turn to take on the last few flights of stairs.

  At floor nine, which is clear, I quickly have a discussion with myself as to whether I should climb higher than floor ten? Should I check the floors above to see if they are clear before I leave the stairwell on Karen and Jim’s floor? The last thing I will need with two passengers in tow is to be pounced upon again and have to go back into battle.

  In the end, I decide against it, if there are any mobile Rabids still in the stairwell, surely, they would have joined in with the last onslaught. Besides which, this is a very tall tower with many floors, and I am not climbing to the top, that’s for sure.

  I come to a compromise when I reach the last flight of steps before reaching floor ten. After taking a look up to my goal, I step back and position myself at the bottom of the flight, resting my rifle on top of the bannisters, aiming up.

&nb
sp; Firstly, I listen intently for any tell-tale sounds of Rabids from above, but I hear nothing. Next, I bang the palm of my hand against the steel handrail where my M4 is resting. I hit it solidly three times and then listen again. Once the echo of the blows has bounced up and down the stairwell and faded, my ears prick to listen again. No noises respond to my call, so I lift the rifle and climb the last flight before I arrive on floor ten.

  My look through door ten’s panel reveals nothing but debris on the floor beyond and possibly a smattering of blood. My tension rises as my hand goes to reach for the door handle and I suddenly find myself short of breath. I roll away from the door, taking cover on the wall next to it. With my back leaning against the wall and the butt of my M4 resting in my right arm, I take a minute to try and gather myself.

  Visions of the large beast crouched over a body that we saw in this building from the helicopter after we had found Josh, return to haunt my thoughts. The chilling creature was fearsome and looked so powerful as it guarded its prey. My fear that the beast is still in this building is stifling and I must remind myself that the helicopter was a lot higher than floor ten when we witnessed its display.

  I put the disturbing thoughts aside, taking comfort in the firepower that I have in my grip. My back pushes me off the wall and after taking another quick look through the glass panel, my hand reaches for the door handle again.

  Chapter 16

  Pulling the door slightly open, until there is a six-inch or so gap, I listen, my hopes that fresh clean air would burst through the gap to refresh my lungs is short-lived. The air is cooler and definitely an improvement on the stagnant dross I have been filling my lungs inside the stairwell, but not by much. More odours of death waft through the gap in the door, the buildings ventilation system having given up the ghost along with the tower's lifts.

  No significant sounds can be heard from my position and so my foot pushes the door open wider so that I can ease the M4 through. I step away from the door and immediately take a knee while it shuts behind me and I listen again.

  At first, I think that the debris on the floor are just pieces of shredded paper, and indeed there is paper strewn around, but on closer inspection, however, I see slithers of material in amongst the paper, many of them stained by the blood that also dots the dark coloured hard floor. Whatever leaked the blood is nowhere to be seen, which can only mean one thing, that the culprit or culprits are somewhere else on this floor.

  I push myself up to head out and find the office Karen and Jim are holed up in. Phil Matlock, I remind myself of the name I am looking for on the office door that they are hiding behind, as I begin to stalk forward.

  I turn left and into a short corridor that I assume can only lead towards the offices on this floor. A sign is mounted on the wall ahead that confirms my assumption, the brightly coloured sign reads Cole & Co, with an arrow pointing right. Next to it is another, more business-like sign that points in the opposite direction for a company named, Brooks Limited. The signage suggests that the tenth floor of the building is split between two companies, one on the left side of the tower and one on the right.

  At the end of the corridor, opposite the signs, my M4 pokes out into the shared foyer of the two companies, my head then inches out, until I can get a view of the foyer and I quickly see that the area is empty. Either side of the signs is a door, one for the Gents and one for the Ladies. Both doors are firmly shut, as are both doors that lead into each company and I pause for a moment to consider my options.

  I am going through into Cole & Co to find Karen and Jim, but I don’t want any nasty surprises when we come out. I peer around again to see if there is any way to secure the doors of Brooks Limited, so that nothing can emerge from there when we arrive back in the foyer.

  The company has black double doors at its entry and each door has a long stainless steel handle, next to each other, in the centre. I could use the M4’s tether to wrap around the handles, but I’d rather it stays where it is. The tether has proven its value multiple times already since my boots hit the sand when I jumped off the boat.

  I look around the foyer to see if it can offer up anything to use to secure the doors. The only things in the foyer are potted trees in two of the corners, to give the open space a bit of character. They certainly aren’t there to improve the air quality, you can bet your bottom dollar the trees are plastic, I think to myself, my nose still tackling the stink of death.

  The word plastic gives me an idea. I carefully move towards the closest tree, next to the entry to Brooks Limited, my hand reaching for the Gerber combat knife, in my holster.

  One chop and two or three slices cuts clean through the flimsy plastic at the base of the tree, the three-inch diameter trunk is no match for the long, razor-sharp blade of the Gerber. Carefully, I carry the tree over to the double door, where I gently push the thick end of the plastic trunk through the handles, I then thread the thinner top end back through the handles and swiftly pull it through until it tightens against the handles. A rasping sound accompanies the pull, as the delicate branches collapse and fold back on themselves. The small noise is worth the risk to keep hold of my tether.

  The doors are secure, in a fashion, even though the plastic will not hold a heavy barrage. I turn for the entry into Cole & Co, my tension rising again.

  In complete contrast to the professionally mundane blackness of the doors behind me, Karen and Jim’s entrance make my eyes hurt. The colour chosen for these doors is a shocking lime green colour, accompanied by one red and one blue door handle. Cole & Co is a quirky advertising agency, I know this because Karen and Jim have raved about the company enough times to me and looking at the doors only confirms everything that they have told me. I am sure that on occasion, they were angling for business from Orion Securities, despite me always telling them that marketing for Orion was not my department.

  If I ever had pressed their case to Sir Malcolm and he had come here for a business meeting, I doubt he would have walked through these garish doors. Funky and over the top was not in his style, apart from the red and yellow stripes of his beloved MCC cricket club of course.

  As I close in on the bright doors, a sudden rattling sounding behind me stops me in my tracks. I turn instantly, back to the tied-up doors, the M4 poised and my heart racing. Plastic leaves sway on the branches of the tree for a moment, even as the rattling of the doors ceases. I stand rooted to the spot, waiting to see if the noise starts up again.

  A minute or so passes and the sound isn’t repeated. Whoever, or whatever tried the doors must have lost interest, at least for now. Wishing that Josh or Alice was here to cover the doors is pointless and I turn my back, ready to finally find Karen and Jim.

  My left hand closes around the red handle and I carefully pull the door ajar, just enough for me to peak through so that I can listen. I see nothing and all is quiet, so I continue to pull the door open. I release the door handle as soon as my right foot and leg can take charge, to allow me to get both hands back on the M4.

  Inside the main entrance, is the reception area just as described, the bright and funky colour scheme is embellished to make my eyes hurt even more. The lime green is transferred to the carpet, whilst the red and blue is transferred to the furniture. More bright colours are added to the collection, with pink and yellow seeming to be another favourite of the wacky designer. I wish I’d bought a pair of sunglasses with me, I joke to myself, as I look for targets in the reception.

  There are no targets in amongst the upside-down furniture and other debris scattered around the reception. Splattering’s of blood break up the lime green carpet, matching the layout almost perfectly, blood also pooled on the carpet around the reception desk to raise my guard even further, not that it needed it.

  I step inside Cole & Co’s reception; the sprung door closes slowly behind me. The carpet beneath my boots cushions my move forward, towards the opening beside the reception desk, that I’m sure leads into the main offices. A low Rabid gargling sound travel
s to me as I near the reception desk and the M4 eases over the top of it to check behind it.

  My shock is instant as my eyes fall on the ripped apart remains of the woman, whose responsibility must have been the reception area. The woman’s torso, who appears to be little more than a girl, has all but disappeared. Her flesh is eaten away, down to the rack of bones that make up her ribcage. Below that, grotesque horror, her stomach and the innards that were once housed there has also been fed upon, only tattered flesh from her body organs remains around the sides of the carnage. The gluttony went so deep that a quivering spine glistens with blood at the bottom of the torrid scene.

  My focus moves away, it has to, and I look at the face of the girl, whose once pretty face, which is now ragged and horrific, stares straight at me. I wonder if the sorry look she is giving me would change instantly if I were anyone else, if I were a ‘normal’ human being. I am sure that it would be a look of feverish hate and hunger and she would go into a feeding frenzy, even though there are no stomach muscles to lift her up and no body organs to welcome the flesh.

  A new dose of blood and brains decorates the lime green carpet when, with a heavy heart, I put a bullet through the receptionist’s head to put her out of her eternal misery.

  I pull my M4 back from over the desk in sadness, but with new vigour, a vigour to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, and get back to my girls, Catherine, and Emily.

  The opening into the main office stands over me and I step towards it, ready for the fight that surely waits inside.