Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever

by Winkless, Lance

  There will be no hiding I see as my head peeks around the opening and into the large open-plan office, even the forest of desks and computer screens will offer little cover for me to make my retreat with Karen and Jim. Couldn’t the designer at least have had the subtlety to end the garish colour scheme at the reception, I think as I scan the colourful room? Perhaps I should give them a break, I then think, perhaps I am not their target audience.

  The main office is abundant with desks, grouped together in islands, that are dotted here and there with no symmetry that I can see. Some of the islands have been broken up, their desks and chairs smashed into and scattered, their computer screens toppled or on the floor. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out the chaos that took place in this office, if nothing else, the blood on the floor tells me it was catastrophic.

  There is a line of enclosed ‘normal’ offices away to the right, each door decorated in a different colour. One of those offices is where Karen and Jim are hiding, and I strain to read the nameplates mounted on the front of the doors. I can’t read them from my distance away, though, my eyes aren’t as good as they once were. My M4 moves away from the row of offices and I see another sister row of offices away to the left. At the back of the room, past the islands of desks is a glass-walled meeting room, complete with obligatory funky furniture.

  Where are the Rabids? I ask myself; I know creatures are in here, I can feel it. Then, I see a possibility, in the very corner, over at the back, on the left is a dark opening. There must be another area behind the back wall, I decide, and it must be cleared before I liberate Karen and Jim.

  Once again, I take a breath and step forward to accept the challenge, the latest on a long list, that shows no sign of ending. I go left, to stay this side of the oversized office, I don’t want to begin my approach to the dark opening until I can do so head-on. With any luck, that will give me a view of what’s beyond the opening and what horrors wait for me inside whatever is back there.

  As I skirt around an impressive looking printer/photocopier, positioned against the wall, I scan across the office, taking in as much of the layout as possible. The task isn’t easy with so many turned over desks and chairs, together with computer screens and other equipment littering walkways.

  I come to a stop directly opposite the opening, which thankfully has a relatively clear path all the way down to it, past the row of offices on the left. Stepping forward, I take a covering position, low down behind the nearest desk, on the right and in front of me. My M4 points over the top, directly at the opening ahead, which doesn’t look quite so dark from my new angle. A thought pops into my mind as I lower my head down to the rifle’s sights. I wonder if Karen and Jim know that I am only a few meters away from them, or do they suspect something is about to happen?

  The thought is only fleeting though, all my concentration is quickly taken up with the darkness at the other end of the office. Contrary to my first impression, I see that there is light inside the room. The light is dim, but it is enough to show me the racks lining the walls of the interior, the shelves hold files and other boring stationery that are far too mundane for the ‘cool’ office environment on show here.

  Now I have a decision to make. Rabids have taken refuge inside the storage room, I am certain of it. Dark and dingy is their favourite environment, unless there is human flesh on offer, of course. I need to decide the best course of action to deal with the creatures. Do I draw them out and cut them down as they emerge, or do I go inside to see what I have to deal with?

  A third option, which I have discounted before the thought has chance to materialise, is to throw my last few grenades through the doorway and blow the fuckers to pieces. Much as I would prefer that method of clearing the room, it would only alert every other creature in the entire building of our presence, no thanks.

  In the end, I decide on option one, draw them out. I could probably walk straight into the room, without a batted eye from the Rabids inside, but have seen how quickly their demeanour towards me changes, however, once I start putting bullets in their heads.

  I pull the M4 back from on top of the desk to move closer to the kill zone. I don’t want to get too close, but just close enough to make hitting a head shot that bit easier. Clearing my blind spots as I move past the first island of desks, I draw level with the first office in the row of four to my left when I realise something. I haven’t considered if any of the other offices are occupied, apart from Phil Matlock’s. For all I know each one of them could have employees cowering inside, praying for salvation, or worse, each one could house the undead, hungry for flesh.

  Stepping right, off the path forward, I go to take cover again behind the closest desk to reconsider my plan. As I go to duck down, I see a foot sticking out from under an adjacent desk. Surprise automatically makes me reverse my motion down, my legs pushing me up and to the side, my rifle prone. Above the foot, a leg is revealed, and I carry on moving to follow the leg up and under the desk.

  In the shade of the underside of the desk, a battered and hunched over body is slumped. I can’t tell if the man is alive or dead, or if what I am actually looking at is a Rabid, the head is down with only the top of it visible. My finger brushes the trigger of the M4 with the temptation to take the guesswork out of the situation completely and fire a bullet into the thick brown hair, crowning the head.

  The struggle to get my finger under control is real, the temptation to just pull the trigger and have done with it is strong. Finally, my finger obeys me, and my better judgement, and it falls away from the trigger, but not too far away. My foot kicks timidly out at the one poking out from the desk before quickly retreating as if the foot might bite back, which I honestly would not be surprised in if it did. The kick gets no reaction and so I kick again, this time with force, and this time there is a reaction.

  The leg shakes and the all too familiar grunt of a Rabid reverberates from under the desk. My finger instantly returns to the M4’s trigger in victory and as the Rabid’s thick hair begins to move as if the head might rise, my finger’s victory is complete. The bullet disappears into the brown locks with a quiet thud, where it must travel through the man’s brain and end its journey embedded into his neck somewhere. There is no tell-tale splatter of blood to indicate an exit wound.

  Immediately, the man’s body goes completely limp, and I move back to the side to take cover, where a nagging doubt begins inside me. Was it a Rabid I have just killed, or was it just a man? How could I be so sure and shoot a bullet from just one quiet grunt? Supposing the man was gravely wounded, he might have only been able to manage a grunt and doesn’t one grunt sound much like another? No, I tell myself, one grunt doesn’t sound just like another, that was a Rabid grunt, no doubt, I try to convince myself.

  I must put my misgivings about my actions to one side. The bullet is in and the man is dead, Rabid, or not, and I must press forward. Firstly, do I continue with option one and draw the creatures out or do I change my tactics? If there are people inside the offices, they are surely bound to come out, however, I decide to proceed, then if Rabids are behind any of the doors, I assume that they are trapped behind them.

  Continue with option one it is, and I break cover, to move to find the optimal firing position.

  Three-quarters of the way across the room, a desk is toppled over on its side, with its top facing the opening. The top is almost perfectly aligned between me and the opening and I take a knee behind the makeshift firing position, the M4 pointing over it.

  “Jim!” I say loudly. “If you can hear me stay inside the office until I come to you.”

  I have no idea if Jim will be able to hear my words from behind the office door and can only imagine his and Karen’s surprise at my sudden outburst if they do. The outburst is for their benefit, but also to alert the Rabids to my presence.

  My aim is high and to the right, just inside the doorway, from where I expect the creatures to appear from. My heart is racing as I wait to see what will happen, m
y finger poised, brushing the M4’s trigger.

  “Jim, Karen, stay inside the office!” the words fall out of my mouth as a desperate shout, my patience wearing thin as nothing emerges and I begin to wonder if anything is inside the storage room.

  Do I hear a muffled shout of ‘okay Andy’, from behind me? Suddenly, a shadow moves ahead, breaking the dim light inside the storage room? I am not sure, but I am sure that I hear the groans and grunts of the undead.

  A hand suddenly appears, it grabs the doorframe to pull itself out of the storage room, the fingers caked with dried blood. My aim is steady as I wait for the creature to emerge and show itself, I won’t fire though, not until it is completely out.

  A chilling screech from my right shocks me to my core, my head whipping in the direction of the noise that has not come from the storage room. A silhouette flashes along the floor to ceiling windows on my right, the Rabid appearing out of nowhere.

  I am being flanked by the undead, I panic as the owner of the blood-caked hand stumbles out of the storage room, its blood-soaked white shirt hanging out. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I tap the M4’s trigger twice, firing at the Rabid emerging from the storage room already in my sights. I cannot afford the time to home in on the creature’s head, the bullets instead slam into its chest, knocking it flying backwards into the storage room.

  Instantly, I twist my body, cutting the muzzle of the M4 through the air to try and get a shot at the Rabid flanking me. The creature is lightning fast though, it darts to the left and jumps onto the top of a desk where it launches into the air, directly at me. The M4 spits bullets up and into the air at the flying Rabid, its hate-filled eyes fixed on me as it closes in.

  Unbelievably, the creature evades the volley of bullets that the M4 fires in quick succession, and I am forced to take evasive action as it descends, about to crash straight into me. I duck and roll underneath the flying Rabid, travelling until my legs are beneath me again, my knees plant on the floor and in one swift motion the M4 comes up and around until it is nestled back into my shoulder.

  Crashing into the floor, the Rabid also goes into a roll but an uncontrolled roll that doesn’t end until it bangs into the tall windows at the outskirts of the office. The creature ends up in a pile with its back jammed against the glass, its head coming straight up intent on searching for its prey.

  A short burst from the M4 fills the Rabids face with bullets that erupt out of the back of its head to smash into the massive pane of glass behind, which explodes outwards with an almighty, ear-splitting crash, shattering into a million pieces. With the support behind the Rabids back suddenly disintegrated, the Rabid immediately falls backwards toppling out of the building, disappearing from my sight in an instant.

  If Karen and Jim didn’t know I was here before, they do now, my mind races as my right leg juts up from underneath me. The leg pushes me up to my feet and I am firing, shooting at the head of another Rabid emerging from inside the storeroom. My aim is true and bullets slam into the Rabid’s head, sending it flying backwards off its feet to crash on top of the Rabid that took a volley in the chest only moments before.

  With my element of surprise gone to shit, I instead press home my advantage and close in on the storeroom. I fire again as the next Rabid presents itself to me, this one takes two bullets to the head before it has even turned towards the door, yet still, I press forward.

  Another figure moves, this one still behind a rack positioned on the closest wall opposite me, the beast partially hidden by the boxes the rack holds. With no headshot, I drill the creature’s torso with bullets, a deathly scream blasts out through the opening as the creature is catapulted back against the rack on the back wall and it begins to slide down to the floor. As it comes down, its head comes into view and the M4 spits two more bullets out to kill the creature.

  I am now at the opening to the storage room, its door frame above me. A creature rushes at me from the hidden depths inside, my trigger finger reacts in reflex before I have registered the attack, bullet’s rip into the Rabid, spiralling up from the M4. One hits it in the chest; the next rips into its neck and the third cracks through the bone of its forehead, killing it instantly. The body falls onto the pile just inside the door, where the bottom beast is still fighting to release itself.

  Ignoring the creature’s protests, I step past the pile of bodies, my M4 trained right to aim down into the storeroom. The length of the narrow room is no more than five meters, and at the end, one more figure stands, with its head down.

  The female Rabid stands almost motionless, dressed in beige slacks and a dark brown frilly blouse. Deep red blood stains the crotch and thigh area of the beige trousers, blood that I assume also soaks the dark brown blouse but is hidden by the blouse’s colour. Not wanting the desperate creature to reveal their torrid features to me, I take aim and fire a single bullet. Blood and brain are ejected out of the back of the Rabids head, and the creature falls to the floor in a heap.

  Something touches my ankle and I look down to see the hand of the Rabid at the bottom of the pile of bullet-ridden creatures trying to reach for my leg. As much as it tries to stretch to take hold of me, only its fingertips manage to brush the material covering my ankle. With the storage room cleared, I turn and look at the face of the forlorn beast, its head jutting out from the bottom of the stack of bodies.

  Weary, I relax my arms, letting the M4 swing down to my side. I look down at the Rabid, its irate anger scrunching up its features, transforming its face into a ball of quivering skin. I wonder if anything other than a hunger for human flesh and blood is going through its mind as my arm tenses to swing the M4 up, to point it directly at the beast’s forehead. Probably not, I tell myself as I squeeze the M4’s trigger.

  Chapter 17

  Stepping back across the now motionless pile of Rabid bodies, I know that the M4 should be up and at the ready, and I might regret letting my guard down as I leave the storage room behind. My tiredness as the adrenaline seeps out of my bloodstream is overpowering though, and I take the risk.

  Casually, I step across the lime green carpet that has a new sparkle added to it from the shattered glass that sprinkled down inside the building to nestle into the fabric. I am completely aware of my surroundings, I haven’t taken complete leave of my senses, my arm is ready to lift the M4 at a moment’s notice.

  Wind blows air through the new opening in the Cheesegrater tower, and I go to meet it. The air cools my overheating body, evaporating the sweat that has formed over my skin, and I hardly notice the smoke contained in the refreshing air and welcome it washing over me.

  After I have taken one last look around the large office space, I step up to the edge of the floor before it drops down ten or so storeys to the ground below. I am still not entirely sure how many storeys I am up from the ground because of the confusing entrance, despite this one being classed as floor ten.

  My left hand takes hold of the vertical runner that held the glass in place before my bullets shattered it and I look over the edge. I don’t think that I am even one-third of the way up this tower, but the ground is still a long way down. A crumpled body seeps blood onto the surrounding concrete directly below me, surrounded by shards of shattered glass.

  My head suddenly goes dizzy, and I sway dangerously forward. Thankfully, the runner in my left hand stops me tipping beyond the point of no return to add to the splattered blood below, and I quickly step back from the edge.

  I don’t move away from the precipice completely though, but I don’t continue to look down. Instead, I look across London, which brings balance back to my inner ear, the depressing sight does little to re-energise me to turn and continue with the mission. I could quite easily sit down on the overpowering carpet, rest my back against something and close my eyes for half an hour or so, or maybe more.

  My eyes catch a glimpse of the Thames in the distance, and I feel a spike of energy when I think about Josh and Alice waiting for me on the river. The small amount of energy gives
me enough strength to release the runner and move my hand to my radio.

  “Josh. Come in, over,” I say into the device.

  “Receiving, over,” Josh replies almost immediately.

  “I’ve cleared floor ten and I am just about to retrieve Karen and Jim. Do you have anything to report? Over,”

  “Nothing to report. Holding station and awaiting your arrival. Do you have an ETA? Over.”

  “Not yet. Will check in when we leave floor ten. Out.”

  “Copy,” Josh confirms that he understands. My eyes leave the far-off river, my head turning towards the offices on the other side from me.

  Feeling slightly better having spoken to my son, I pull the M4 up from my side and get into position to cross over to find Karen and Jim. As soon as I step away from the smashed window, a timid voice says ‘hello’, from my right, startling me.

  My rifle swings around with my body and I find the face of a young woman poking out from the barely open door of the end office on this side of the room. My gun points straight at her and I can only imagine what my deranged face must look like, but the young woman’s eyes bulge in terror as if I might shoot her dead. I quickly lower the M4 slightly and try to ease the look on my face, to show her I am not going to shoot her.

  “Hello,” I eventually respond, almost forgetting.

  “Please help me,” the young woman asks, her eyes welling up with tears that will quickly start to roll down her tired and haggard face.

  “Who’s in there with you?” I ask bluntly.

  “Nobody, it’s just me,” she blurts back trying not to break down completely, and who can blame her. She must have been hiding in that room alone for days, probably thinking it would be the last thing she sees.

  I step towards her and she retreats away from me afraid, the door closing until she nearly disappears completely.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her, softening my demeanour. “My name’s Andy, I’m here to rescue Karen and Jim. We will be leaving shortly if you want to come, but it’s going to be dangerous.”