Hell

by G G Garcia

  A rattle could be heard behind him, which made Melvin stop in his tracks, and the man turned around to see the cubicle door at the end being tried. Somebody was inside.

  “Hello,” Mel whispered. “Are you okay in there?”

  The door rattled again and Mel decided to leave the place quickly. Before he could put a step forwards, the door crashed open and a man in his thirties, obviously infected, ran at Mel.

  “Holy shitballs!”

  Mel screamed out and ran for the exit, but he was pulled back and thrown to the floor. The IO leaned over and closed in for a bite, but a hysterical Melvin Leslie pushed the man in the stomach with his foot, forcing the infected being to stumble backwards, giving Mel time to scramble to his feet.

  The IO was by the door, blocking Mel’s path, so some kind of physical confrontation was going to be impossible to avoid. He was going to have to get by the man, and probably kill him, in order to escape. He felt for his knife, but the blade was stuck in the material and he couldn’t get it out of his pocket.

  The IO ran at Mel with full pelt, taking him by surprise, and he snarled and gnashed as the two of them wrestled with one another. Mel had his hands on the man’s shoulders and was trying to keep his teeth the further away from his body as possible.

  The man was strong, and Mel could feel himself weakening as the IO wrapped his hands around the back of Mel’s neck and tried to pull his face in closer. Mel knew he was losing the fight, so tried something different. He quickly removed his hands from the shoulders and grabbed the infected man’s cheeks. The IO shook his head, making Mel lose his grip and caught his pinky finger on his left hand in the mouth of the IO. Mel withdrew his finger and screamed as the man nearly took it off. He punched the IO in the face, but it didn’t seem to be making any difference, and the two men wrestled again, and Mel managed to find energy from somewhere.

  Mel grabbed the IO around the neck with his arm and wrapped his legs around the man’s waist, using all his weight to take him back down to the floor. The two men hit the floor with a thump and a heavy breathing Mel could feel the knife pricking his thigh but still kept his arm around the neck, unsure what the damage was. He waited a minute and slowly removed his arm and stood up. He looked at the lifeless body and bent down to feel a pulse in the neck. There was nothing. The man was dead, and Mel guessed that maybe he had unintentionally broken his neck.

  He looked down on his left hand, making sure it was okay, and headed for outside.

  Mel jogged his way to the exit and reached outdoors.

  Paul was in his car, waiting on Mel, and stepped out once he saw the fright on Mel’s face

  “Wit the fuck happened to ya?” Paul yelled. “Honestly, I leave ya on ya own for a minute—”

  “Never mind that,” Mel said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He could feel Paul’s stare and sighed. He explained in short. “There was an IO in the crapper. I managed to kill it.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, I know. Shit indeed. Now, can we please get the fuck out of here?”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Henry sat with a cup of tea in his hand that had been made by the woman of the house. They had placed a large pan of cold water on a camping stove and it took over ten minutes for the water to boil.

  “Well?” the woman asked Henry. “So, what do you think?”

  Henry took a slurp from the cup of tea and took a gape at Demi. She revealed a thin smile, but gave nothing away.

  Henry placed the cup down and said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  The woman smiled. “Thank you.”

  “This is ridiculous.” The man said, who still hadn’t introduced himself to Henry, whilst Demi began to pace the floor. “She might still be in there somewhere. She might be mad, but she probably doesn’t have any control over what she’s doing.”

  “That’s rubbish,” the wife snapped. “She’s gone. She’s not coming back and you know it.”

  “Look.” Henry began “I can’t do this until you both agree.”

  The father of the girl paced the floor for a minute longer and then looked at Henry, then his wife. “Just get it done,” he groaned.

  His wife stood and walked over to her husband and gave him a hug as he began to break down.

  She looked over to Henry and nodded at his gun. “Are you going to do it with that?”

  Henry shook his head. “I’m not putting a bullet in her. It’d be quick, but it’s too savage.”

  “How are you gonna do it?”

  “I’ll smother her. It’ll take longer, but it’ll be painless.”

  The husband wiped his eyes and began to compose himself. His wife asked if he was okay and they both hugged once more. She asked him if he wanted to say goodbye to their daughter. He said yes, and they both went upstairs together, leaving Henry and Demi in the living room.

  “Well,” Demi began. “This is a bit weird.”

  “I know, Demsy,” Henry sighed. “I should have driven on. I should have ignored him.”

  “You’re not as hard as you make yourself out to be.”

  “I know.”

  “We’ll get this out of the way,” said Demi, “and then we’ll go straight to the pub. No more stopping.”

  “Agreed.”

  A few minutes later, the father and mother of the girl made their way downstairs and returned to the living room.

  “Here we go,” said Henry under his breath.

  Demi and Henry looked up and could see the tearful couple. They hugged one another and sat on the couch, arms wrapped around one another.

  The woman sat up straight and took in a deep breath, trying to look strong and in control. “You can go up whenever you want,” she said.

  “What about...?” Henry paused and tried to choose his words carefully. He started his sentence again, now a bit more thought had been put into it. “What about afterwards? When she’s gone?”

  “I’ll take care of her,” the man sobbed.

  “I can give you a hand.”

  “No,” said the man. “With the food and what you’re about to do ... you’ve done more than enough, and we’re very grateful. I’ll take her downstairs and bury her once you’ve gone. I don’t have the guts to put her out of her misery, but I can do that.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up.” Demi decided to intervene. “Ill or not, killing your own must be one of the hardest things.”

  Henry stood up and nodded at the devastated parents. “I’ll make my way up.”

  “I’m sorry we asked you to do this,” the woman spoke as Henry made his way upstairs. He called down and told her that it was okay.

  Henry took in a deep breath and pushed the door open that was already slightly ajar. The smell hit him as he stepped inside and could see that the young woman looked relaxed until she spotted him.

  She hissed and snarled as he stepped towards her and could see that what tied her to the headboard looked to be a belt off a dressing gown. He placed his hand on his Glock, wondering if the quick death was a better idea. It’d certainly be safer for Henry. He wouldn’t need to go near her, but he wanted her to look like she was sleeping, and that would be ruined if she had a bloody wound in her chest from the Glock 17.

  No! He said he was going to smother her, so that was what he was going to do.

  He walked over to the side of the bed and pulled one of the cushions from underneath the young woman’s head. This only seemed to have enraged her more.

  She jerked and wriggled so much that Henry thought she was going to get free. He placed the cushion over her face and pressed down with his hands. He looked up at the wall as he remained where he was, and kept himself there even when the movement had stopped. Almost a minute had passed and he finally removed himself off the bed, taking the cushion with him and placing it on the floor. He looked at the lifeless body of the girl and felt a sadness enshroud him.

  He went over to her and closed her wide bloodshot eyes, and then he began to untie her. He threw the rob
e belt onto the floor and placed the arms of the dead girl by her side to make her look more respectable for her parents, to make it look like she was simply sleeping. Henry took a step back and looked at the body with sadness, and then decided to go downstairs and let the parents know what he had done.

  Henry reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the living room to be greeted by sombre faces.

  “She’s ready,” he said.

  Both father and mother clasped each other’s hands and slowly rose to their feet. Demi and Henry felt for the couple and made their excuses to leave. The parents thanked Henry for what he had done and for the food, and then slowly made their way upstairs to the landing.

  Henry and Demi stepped outside into the August sunshine, and went into the car in silence. After Henry had shut the driver’s door, he stared out of the windscreen and never made an effort to pull his keys out and start the car.

  “You okay?” Demi asked him.

  “That was quite difficult to do,” Henry admitted. “Probably the most difficult thing I’ve had to do, ever.”

  “I’m sorry.” Demi placed her hand on his shoulder. “To be honest, I didn’t think it was right for the woman to ask you to do it.”

  “She only asked because she saw the gun. But I couldn’t shoot her. It didn’t seem right, despite that it would have been a quick death.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Ready to go to that pub?”

  Demi nodded.

  “No more distractions,” said Henry with a chuckle. “If I see as much as a hitchhiker, I’m driving on.”

  “Even if it’s a young family?”

  “No, of course not.” Henry smiled. Henry pulled the keys out of his pocket and started the vehicle. “I’m a lot of things, Demsy, but I’m not a monster.”

  Henry pulled the vehicle away and turned left onto the Wolseley Road.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Tony had made Craig and Lisa a drink of coffee, using the camping stove, and all three drank in silence. Tony and Craig were concerned for their friend, but Lisa seemed unmoved about her husband being out.

  Craig took a slurp of the hot beverage and placed it on the floor. He was pleased to be alive, unlike some folk, but Christ he was so bored.

  “I wonder if they’re alright,” Craig murmured to no one in particular.

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine, man.” Tony held his cup with both hands as if he was freezing and the cup was the only heat he had. “Paul’s taken to this like a dog to water. I don’t really recognise him these days.”

  “You don’t recognise him?” Craig seemed confused and that was apparent in his tone. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t mean physically, obviously,” Tony began to explain. “I just mean ... Remember that time we were at Fatty Arbuckle’s and some guy said he wanted to glass Paul for snogging his bird?”

  “Of course.”

  “Paul shat himself, and was a nervous wreck.”

  “We were all nervous, mate,” said Craig. “I was there. We sneaked out around eleven o’clock and got a taxi home.”

  “We were all shitebags back then. Now … Paul has killed about half a dozen people and doesn’t seem affected by it. I killed that dog and ran that guy over, and can’t seem to get it out of my mind.”

  “I know they’re still living, breathing people, but they’re still infected. Maybe it’s best that he’s turned that way,” said Craig. “It’s what’s kept him alive. He’s been in more volatile situations than us. It’s either he was killed, or he killed them. If this situation continues, and we survive it by killing our aggressors, we’ll end up the same.”

  “It’s just frightening, that’s all. It’s Tuesday. It’s only the third day and so much has happened.”

  “Well, just imagine if you’re in a city like Birmingham or Coventry, where the population is higher. It’s probably worse there. There’d be more IOs.”

  “True.” Tony nodded in agreement. His cup was now on the floor and began to crack his knuckles, annoying his friends. “But there would also be more people who hadn’t been infected who could fight back.”

  “But more victims.”

  “I wish to blue fuck you two would stop your whining?” Lisa huffed and scratched at her short grey hair. It was in desperate need of a wash. “You’re sitting there, moaning like a couple of bitches. There’re people out there, like my friend, who have had their throats torn out, and you’re pissing your pants that your little friend is changing. Who gives a cunt’s hair?”

  Tony turned to Lisa and snarled, “Who kicked your kennel?”

  Craig stood up, not wanting to get involved with the argument that was about to ensue. He walked over to the window as Lisa continued to verbally attack Tony. He tried to blank out what was being said, although he did hear her call Tony a cockwomble and Tony calling her a salad dodger.

  Craig peered out of the window, as the argument continued, and could hear a dull and faint sound that made his ears twitch. He pulled the curtains back and looked to his left, telling the other two to shut up. Remarkably they did. Lisa and Tony knew something was up, but they remained seated. Then he saw it. Something that made him gulp and shake with fear.

  A black Audi could be seen in the distance, going along the Wolseley Road. It was a car he didn’t recognise. He was hoping it was going to be Paul and Mel returning.

  They could all hear the noise of the engine and Tony was the first to ask who it was.

  Craig shook his head and turned to his friend. “I don’t know, mate. I don’t recognise the car.”

  “Maybe they’re just passing,” Lisa said.

  “I fucking hope so.”

  Craig watched as the Audi went over the Wolseley Bridge, and then could see Paul’s car twenty or thirty yards behind.

  “What the...?” Craig watched as the Audi turned right, but it wasn’t going down Stafford Road. It was entering the pub’s car park.

  “What is it?” Tony asked.

  “Paul’s back.”

  “That’s great.” Tony got to his feet.

  “We may have other people to entertain.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tony was now standing next to Craig and they watched as Paul’s Corsa went over the Wolseley Bridge, crossing the River Trent, and went by the pub and turned into the car park.

  A minute later there was a knock on the door.

  “I’ll go,” Tony said. “I’ve got the keys.”

  Tony ran down the stairs and heard another knock as he reached the bottom. He took the keys out of his pocket and opened the door with zero hesitation.

  It was Paul and Mel.

  *

  Paul looked at the fuel gauge and then his eyes went back on the road. Paul and Mel hadn’t exchanged words for over a minute, and they could see that there was a vehicle in the distance, in front of them.

  “I wonder who that is?” Paul muttered to himself, and then looked to the side to see how his passenger was.

  “How’re ya holdin’ up?” Paul asked Mel.

  “Okay.” Mel nodded. “Thank God I wasn’t bitten, eh?”

  “I know,” cackled Paul. “That’s the pair of us that have nearly been bitten now. Mine was just a graze, if that.”

  Mel added, “It’s just a bit of a shock to the system that I nearly lost a finger.”

  “Fuck.” Paul looked at the gauge and could see that the fuel was in the red.

  Noticing this, Mel panicked and asked if they’d be able to get to the pub.

  “It should be alright,” Paul groaned. “We’re nearly there, and Carol’s not struggling yet.”

  “Good.”

  “What will Lisa say when ya tell her what happened? Will she show her human side and have sympathy for ya?”

  “Nah, will she fuck. She’ll ridicule me and call me a clumsy prick.”

  Paul followed the road and slowed down when they reached a sharp bend. Once passed the bend, the road straightened up and they could
see the vehicle again, going by Mel and Lisa’s house and heading for the Wolseley Bridge that stretched over the River Trent.

  “I wonder where they’re going?” Mel spoke. “Stafford or Rugeley?”

  Paul never answered and within seconds he had cleared the bridge as well. There was no sign of the vehicle and Paul turned right onto the pub’s car park and could see the same vehicle parked up by the beer garden, engine still running.

  “Shit,” said Paul, as he parked his car by the main door, ten yards from the other vehicle.

  Mel asked, “Who’s that?”

  “No idea,” Paul sighed. He turned the engine off and opened the door. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

  Mel was hesitant to leave the vehicle and felt a little shameful that a young man over twenty years younger than him had more balls.

  He finally exited the Corsa and stood next to Paul, both looking over at the parked black Audi.

  The driver and the passenger door opened and out stepped two figures. Paul smiled when he saw Demi, and she smiled back. Mel looked at Paul and asked if he knew them.

  “I know Demi,” he said. “I know of the guy.”

  “What do you think they want?”

  Paul laughed, “Have a guess.”

  “They want to stay in the pub?” There was disappointment in Mel’s voice.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Do we turn them away?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Two reasons.”

  “Yes?”

  Paul lost his smile and added, “Like us, they have a car full of food. Look.” Paul pointed at the back of the Audi car. “And the man that’s with Demi is carryin’ a gun.”

  “Oh, shit.” Mel gulped and turned to Paul. “I never noticed that before.”

  “His name’s Henry. He’s a drug dealer. Let’s introduce ourselves.”

  “Introduce ourselves?” Mel huffed and wasn’t sure.

  “It won’t take long.”

  Paul strolled over to the pair standing by the Audi and gave off a wide smile and gave Demi a hug.