The Monsterland Trilogy [Books 1-3]
Page 27
He had no idea where he was going to go if he made it outside. Maybe the hotel. Gordon and Joan seemed nice, and even though he had a dark past he was sure they would protect him. Lloyd, he wasn't so sure of. After all, although it had been over two decades ago, Jory did make his brother's life a misery when they were in prison.
Jory slid down the stairs and screamed as he progressed nearer to the ground floor, each step rubbing against his wounded stomach as he brushed past them. His yelling wasn't going to help him, especially if Marvin woke up earlier than he had wanted, but the pain was worse than he had imagined.
Once he had reached the bottom, he tried to touch his face with his bloody hand and sobbed once he tried to feel his left cheek. The cut had been so deep that it had torn the cheek in two, creating two flaps, and Jory could touch his back teeth without putting his fingers into his mouth.
He yelled out as he tried to reach for the main door's handle and pulled it towards him. He had to stop. The pain in his gut felt intense. It was as if his insides were on fire. He had never been stabbed before, but had now been stabbed twice, once in the thigh and once in the stomach, and had had his face slashed.
The irony of the situation was that the infected were supposed to be the danger.
Jory had dragged himself out onto the garden path. He tried to get to his feet.
Maybe if he tried to hop to the hotel.
It seemed to take him forever to get on the one leg, his good leg, but two hops was all he managed before collapsing to the floor again.
He was sitting on the pavement, out of breath, and touched his wounded stomach. He was losing blood. Knowing that time wasn't on his side, he tried to shuffle over the road on his backside. It was a slow process, but it was less painful than what he was doing before. He looked up and gasped as he gazed at the bridge.
“Shit.”
*
The screaming forced Marvin Dickinson to open his eyes. He quickly got up and groaned. His head was pounding. This was the same way he felt when he hit the brandy.
He rubbed the side of his head and suddenly moved his head from side to side and looked around at his surroundings. He then gazed at the bed. There was blood on the sheets. It then came back to him that he was in Jory's place.
He tried to stand. Once he did, the room span a couple of times and his throbbing head became worse. He picked his knife up off of the floor and put it into his pocket, then attempted to leave the bedroom. His legs were like jelly and his vision was impaired, like he badly needed glasses. He was in no fit state to be on his feet. He knew he was suffering from concussion, but he didn't want Jory to escape.
It was obvious to him that the screaming that had aroused him had come from Jory himself, but with his wounds, Marvin was certain that the man had no chance of escaping.
He had managed to stagger over to the bedroom door, stumbled onto the landing and tried to look downstairs without falling down.
The main door was open and the legs of Jory could be seen, leaving, dragging along the ground.
“Oh no you don't.”
Marvin held onto the banister for much needed support, and took one step at a time. His head was hammering so much he had to take a seat on the fourth step down. He dropped his head in his hands and tried to get himself up with some words of encouragement.
“Come on, you dick. Off your arse. You've been waiting twenty three years to do this.”
He stood up, this time with both hands on the banister and went down the stairs. His legs wobbled as he progressed to the bottom, and could see the door frame of the main door moving to and fro. His vision was still playing up and had to place his hands on the frame for support and gazed outside. He watched through blurry vision as Jory was now on his backside, shuffling his way towards the road.
Marvin smiled and stumbled outside after him. Jory had stopped moving and was staring down the road. Marvin could see the man mutter something under his breath, and placed his hand on the knife, ready to pull it out and put a stop to Jory's suffering.
Marvin staggered a few yards, knife in his right hand, and was distracted as a voice called out, “Marvin, what are you doing?” It was Gordon Burns.
Gordon had his head out of the opened window of his room at the hotel, and was baffled at the scene in front of his eyes. Why was Jory bleeding heavily in the middle of the road? And why did Marvin look drunk and was about to attack Jory?
Marvin looked at Gordon, then heard Jory plead for his life. Following that, Jory told Marvin to look to his right. Marvin did just that, but was finding it hard to focus. Gordon, looking from his window, had no problem focusing. There were two Runners on the other side of the bridge. Just like before when Marvin and Junior were outside.
“Oh shit!” Gordon exclaimed, then disappeared from his window.
Seconds later, Gordon and Lloyd flew out of the main door of the hotel and dragged Marvin inside. Lloyd told everyone to get their arses into his room, but nobody moved. Lloyd threw the key at Joan, then Lloyd and Gordon went back outside for Jory.
Gordon stood and gazed at Jory's hideous wounds, Lloyd was also baffled by this. Marvin? Why would he do such a thing?
Marvin staggered back out of the main door of the hotel and snarled at his brother, “Leave him there.”
“We can't leave him to bleed out on the road,” said Gordon. “He's dying.”
Marvin pulled out his knife and stuck it in Jory's throat. George Jeffers made an awful sound whilst Lloyd and Gordon looked on in shock, and coughed out blood once Marvin dragged out the knife.
“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Lloyd wasn't sure whether to punch Marvin or not. “Have you lost your baubles?”
“It's marbles,” Marvin corrected, whilst he stood holding the knife, Jory's fresh blood still running off the blade. “Let's go inside.” Marvin pointed at the two Runners.
They were beginning to move.
“I'm not going anywhere with him.” Gordon shook his head.
“Trust me,” said Marvin. “He deserved it. You don't know him like I do ... or did.”
“Shit! They're coming!” Lloyd gazed at the two infected that were sprinting and were now over the bridge. “My room. Now!”
That wasn't the worst of it. Marvin disappeared inside, but Lloyd and Gordon had a one second look before going in. They could see more of them behind the two Runners, coming from over the hill.
Many, many more.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Junior told Kelly he was going for some air and decided to go into the laundry room, in the reception area, near the main toilets. Kelly wasn't listening and was glaring at the main door, wondering what all the rush was about earlier. Joan was with her.
Junior went into the room, and sparked up another joint he had rolled up. He looked around the place. There were baskets of linen, pillow cases, duvets ... everything a room needed. He heard some commotion, but ignored it.
Junior had only managed two drags of the joint when he spat it out, the joint landing in the linen basket. He heard the main door crash open and heard Gordon yell, “Everybody run!”
He then heard his dad shout, “Where's Junior?”
Junior quickly emerged from the laundry room and announced, “I'm here. What's going on?”
Lloyd cried, “They're coming. My room ... now.”
*
They were all in the room and the door was locked. Lloyd had grabbed the two bags of supplies in the reception area with his left hand, and held his crowbar in his right hand. He asked if they all had their weapons. All nodded, included Junior.
“Good,” said Lloyd and put the bags in the corner of the room. “We might fucking need them.”
“Dad?” Junior spoke up, but Lloyd immediately shushed his son.
They all held their breath as dozens of the Runners ran through the hotel. Sounds of smashing was heard, but Lloyd put it down to bumping into items accidentally. For the little time he had been around these things, he was certain that van
dalism wasn't a part of their goal.
“What do we do if they come in?” Kelly whispered in Joan's ear.
Joan hunched her shoulders and whispered back, “Then we put our weapons to good use.”
Joan and Kelly were in the left corner of the room, by the window. Marvin, Junior and Gordon were in the right corner, whilst Lloyd was now sitting with his back against the door, the crowbar resting on his lap.
Gordon took a peek at the window and could feel his breath quickening and getting shallower. He was expecting a gang of those bastards to come hurtling through it any second. It had been done before, back at the guesthouse. He remembered every detail.
The running through the hotel continued. Dozens of feet went past the door, through the corridor. It sounded like there were at least twenty ... possibly thirty in the building. Lloyd looked over at the group. They were all nervous, even Marvin, and he could see that Junior was shaking and close to tears. He noticed that Gordon and Joan were staring at the window, whereas Junior, Kelly and Marvin were glaring at the door. They were expecting the window or door to be broken through, but nobody said anything.
Suddenly, there was some screaming. It sounded like it was coming from the reception area. What the hell was going on? There were no people around, especially with Jory now gone, so it must have been the Runners that were screaming.
For minutes they all listened out, breathing long, quiet and slow breaths. The noise within the hotel had diminished and now the sounds of feet slapping tarmac could be heard outside. Were they leaving? Or were there some in and outside?
Lloyd looked to the side with a puzzled look, as if he had remembered something, then went over to Gordon and Joan and whispered, “Can those things smell us? I mean, do they have a heightened smell?”
Gordon and Joan both shrugged their shoulders. They didn't know.
“I can't remember anything being said about it when we watched your television,” said Gordon. “It was the video footage of Flamingo Land that sticks in my head.”
Joan nodded and said softly, “For me it's Sue getting killed.” Joan didn't want to mention having to shoot Sue's son. She didn't want to rub Gordon up the wrong way. It was something that initially he was going to do, but lost his nerve and Joan did the shooting instead.
Lloyd went over to the others and sat next to Junior, throwing his arm around him. He never said a word to his son; they sat and comforted one another in silence.
Another couple of minutes of quiet had passed. The hotel was plunged into silence. There was no noise from inside the building and nothing outside. Junior was brave enough to get to his feet. Nobody asked what he was doing. They assumed that he was stretching his legs.
He strolled over to Joan and Gordon, who both smiled at him, and reached for the blinds before anyone could stop him.
“What are you doing?” Gordon snapped at the youngster. “Don't be so stupid.”
Junior ignored Gordon and a smile broke out over his face. The main road that went through Blanchland was completely clear.
“I think they're gone,” announced Junior. “I don't know why.”
Lloyd went over and stood next to his son, holding the crowbar, and pulled back some blinds to look for himself.
He was right. Junior was right.
Lloyd pulled back the blinds more so he could get a better look.
“How's it looking?” Kelly asked.
“Clear.” Lloyd nodded, confused. “But we should stay here for now. Also, we'll need to check the hotel before we do anything. I don't understand why they left so quick.”
Marvin nodded in agreement. “They've probably damaged the place, doors and stuff, but there's no point securing the hotel if we haven't even checked inside. There could be one or two strays. You heard how many of those things were inside.”
Junior and Marvin were still gazing out. Gordon and Joan heard Junior gasp, then Lloyd said to him, “Don't make any sudden movements, son.”
Gordon couldn't help himself. He stood behind Junior and tried to peer out.
Feeling Gordon's presence, Junior told him without making eye contact, “It came from behind that hedge. I thought it was clear.”
All three stared as the male infected being stood, staring back, head slightly lowered with its fists clenched.
“Just don't move,” whispered Lloyd. “Don't give him the excuse to run at us.”
The Runner across the road was a male, late twenties, and had dark features, his jaw covered in blood. The infected individual was dressed in all black, which made its appearance even more frightening.
Junior and Gordon did as they were told and never moved a muscle, but the infected individual moved its leg back as if it was about to start a flat race, and ran at the window.
“Fuck!” Gordon yelled.
“Grab your weapons,” commanded Lloyd, dragging a shocked Junior away from the window. There was only seconds to spare.
“What's happening?” cried Joan as she stood up with the others, clasping her knife. She had no idea why she asked such a question. She knew what was happening.
Three seconds later, the body dived through with a crash, glass scattering everywhere as if there had been a small explosion, and Junior and Kelly cried out in fright.
Lloyd was the first to strike. He struck the thing on the arm with the crowbar, and it grabbed Lloyd around the throat and tried to sink its teeth into his face. Lloyd dropped the crowbar and the pair of them fell to the floor and fought. Marvin ran over, ready to stab the thing in the back, but Lloyd lifted up his right knee and threw his attacker to the side. It got up quickly, as Lloyd crawled away, taking his crowbar with him, and threw itself at the inexperienced and frightened Kelly.
She tried to stab at the deranged man, her cleaver still in her back pocket, but had already taken a bite to her face. She screamed as it tore her right cheek away, and shrieked as it quickly went in and sank its teeth into her shoulder, its mouth still full of torn flesh from the first bite. It was as if it knew that once a victim was bitten, there was little time to spare. The infection took thirty to sixty seconds to flood the body of the victim.
Lloyd screamed at everybody to get to the far corner of the room, away from the infected attacker and Kelly.
Kelly Bronson fell to her knees, blood pissing out from her face, her eyes rolled and then she fell to the side. Her body shuddered and it looked like she was having a fit on the floor. She was turning.
The male creature ran at Joan, Junior, Marvin, Gordon and Lloyd. Lloyd put it down with a strike to the head. It dropped to the floor and Joan and Marvin bent over and began stabbing it in the back. It received seven stab wounds altogether and now Kelly got to her feet, her eyes bloodshot, still bleeding from her wound.
“Allow me,” said Marvin.
“Stay where you are,” Lloyd snapped, putting his arm across his brother's chest. “This is not a game.”
The infected Kelly Bronson launched herself at the group and Lloyd struck out, catching her head, forcing her to stagger backwards. Kelly never fell, but looked dazed and unsteady on her feet. She ran at them once more, and this time Gordon struck Kelly with his hammer ... twice.
She collapsed and Marvin stuck his knife into her heart with a smile on his face, and watched her die. He never liked Kelly, ever since she put him on his arse in the woods. Gordon did like her, and was sure that the old Kelly was in there somewhere, but the infection made her do things she had no control over.
Panting, Gordon bent down and touched Kelly's face. “I'm sorry this had to happen to you.” Gordon jumped when Marvin crouched down and stuck his knife into her chest again. Gordon pushed him away. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Marvin laughed, “Just making sure.”
“She's gone.” Joan grabbed Marvin and pulled him away.
He stood up and pointed the bloody knife in Joan's face, she had hers already out, now under his groin which he was now aware of.
She said with a growl, “Go for it, y
ou piece of shit.”
With no hesitation, Lloyd separated the pair of them and told them to calm the fuck down.
“This is all his fault.” Gordon pointed at Marvin. “It was Jory's screams that brought them here. And why the fuck did you kill him anyway?”
“I have my reasons.”
Joan looked dazed. “Jory's dead?”
“We need to keep cool,” Lloyd warned them. “It ain't over yet. Not until the fat lady screams.”
“So what do we do now?” Gordon asked.
“Fuck knows.”
It wasn't the answer off of Lloyd that the rest of them wanted to hear.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Minutes had passed and the group all sat on the carpet of the room, surrounded by blood and carnage.
Joan's eyes thinned, she lifted her chin and began to sniff the air.
Noticing this, Gordon asked her what she was doing.
“Can you smell ... burning?” Joan looked at Lloyd.
He took a sniff and nodded. He placed his hand on the doorknob and unlocked the door.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
“It's okay. Trust me.”
Lloyd disappeared out into the corridor and only had to progress a few yards to see into the reception area. The area was on fire, and Lloyd had guessed that the fire hadn't even reached the bottles of liquor behind the bar yet. But when it did...
It appeared that there was no active Runner to be seen and Lloyd guessed that the fire must have scared them off. He could see two of them, dead, lying on the floor and still on fire. Maybe that's where the screaming came from earlier? Carpets and curtains were burning, and the laundry room's door was open, smoke spewing out.
Lloyd put his hands in his pockets and pulled out a set of keys. He smiled. The jeep. He stood for a few seconds in thought, then went back to the room. He knocked the door where they were all waiting and said, “It's me.”