When it finally does, William stares out into the hall. Everything is normal. People are coming and going. Calm music is playing over the loudspeakers. At the reception, two women are causally talking.
No blood. No screaming. No panic. And no zombies.
So far.
William walks towards the exit.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
William stops and sees Janus, his colleague. He’s pushing an empty bed and sends him a knowing smile. “It’s not time for your smoking break yet.”
“I’m just … uhm …”
William blinks and has no idea what to say. Is it wise to tell anyone about the zombies in the basement? He risks creating panic if word gets out. On the other hand, he can’t just leave Janus hanging. He’s the one who taught William the job, and he really likes him.
“All right, listen,” he whispers, grabbing Janus by the arm. “You need to get out of here, right now. Something crazy is going down.”
Janus first grins, but then turns serious once he realizes William isn’t joking. “What are you talking about?”
“The whole building is in danger.”
Janus frowns. “You mean …?” He lowers his voice. “Terrorism? Is it a bomb?”
William makes sure no one is within earshot, then he breathes: “Some contagious disease. I don’t think the doctors know yet, but … they probably won’t be able to stop it. It’s deadly.”
“Look, man, I’m sure whatever it is, the doctors have it under control.”
William shakes his head firmly. “There are already two dead. I’ve seen them. Get out of here, man. I’m serious.” He darts one last urgent look at Janus, then he lets go and walks on briskly towards the exit. He’s still wearing work clothes, but the thought of going up to the changing room hasn’t even crossed his mind; he’s got his phone, car keys and cigarettes. That’s all he needs.
The revolving doors let him out into the sunshine. He looks around the parking lot. Everything seems normal.
So far.
He jogs to his car, unlocks it and gets in. He finds his phone and checks it again. Still no alarming news. Maybe the media does know about the threat, but has been ordered by the government not to say anything, so as to not spread a panic.
William just sits there for a moment and thinks. Now that he’s outside the hospital, he feels a little less trapped and slightly more calm. He considers who else to warn. He has a few friends in town, but no girlfriend. His only family is his mother, who lives in the Netherlands. And then there’s his uncle Holger, of course.
The thought of his mom in Amsterdam gives him an unpleasant idea. What if this thing didn’t begin here in Denmark, but someplace else? Perhaps most of Europe is right now under attack from the undead …
William calls up his mom.
“Well, hello, sweetie,” his mom answers in a bright tone of voice. “To what do I owe the honor this early in the day?”
“Uhm, hey, Mom. I just wanted to make sure everything was fine.”
“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
William doesn’t really know what to tell her. He can hear voices in the background. His mom is probably at work.
“Did they say anything on the radio?” he asks.
“About what exactly?”
“I don’t know … something about a virus, maybe?”
“No, I didn’t hear anything like that. Is there a virus going around?”
“Yeah, uh … it’s just some sort of flu, I think.”
“And you got worried about your poor old mom?” She laughs heartedly. “You’re such a sweet boy. Don’t you worry, I’m just fine.”
William feels a bit more relieved. He chats briefly with his mom, then ends the conversation by saying his break is over.
He takes out the packet of cigarettes and shakes out a Kings, lights it up and inhales deeply. He rolls down the window and spends a minute or so brooding.
What does this mean? Why isn’t there any panic? Maybe it didn’t really start yet. Maybe it can even still be stopped …?
He looks towards the building and drags thoughtfully on his smoke. What if the two zombies in the basement are the only ones so far? What if there’s still time to—
His thoughts are interrupted by the sudden blaring of a siren close by. William turns his head to see the gate of the A&E open, and an ambulance comes out, lights blinking and sirens blaring. Then another one. And another one. And another one.
William feels the goose bumps appear at the base of his neck and then slowly spread out over his entire body. The sight of the ambulances erases the last of his doubt. The catastrophe is real. It has begun.
He puts out the cigarette and calls up Holger. It only rings once before his uncle picks up.
“Well, good morning, Will.”
“Hey, Holger,” William says. “Listen, I need your help.”
“Sure thing! What can I do you for?”
“Do you still have your place?”
Complete silence on the other end.
“Hello, Holger? You still there?”
“Uh-huh,” Holger says, but with a completely new tone of voice. “I still have it, all right. But I don’t use it anymore. How come you ask?”
William shuts his eyes. “I think it’s best if I meet you there. Now. Right away.”
He can hear Holger hold his breath for a long moment. “Okay,” he finally says, as William opens his eyes again. “But why—”
A movement to the side. A figure comes rushing at the car. William screams.
FOUR
“Mille! Wait up!” Krista grabs her by the arm and forces her to stop. “Look! Someone got out …”
Mille really doesn’t want to look back, but she does so anyway. They’ve run for what feels like half an hour, yet they’ve only managed to put a couple hundred yards between them and the bus. It gives Mille the sense of being in one of those bad dreams where you run and run and never move.
The bus seems to be alive in the wavy rays of heat coming off the road. At first, she can’t see what Krista sees. Then, she notices the figure coming towards them. It could be Mads. Mille doesn’t like the way he walks, uncertain and wobbly. Either Mads is badly hurt, or—
Or he’s already dead.
“Isn’t it Mads?” Krista asks, squinting her eyes. “I think he’s seen us, Mille. He’s coming this way.”
“Come on,” Mille mutters, pulling at her friend. “We’ve got to go.”
But Krista pulls back. “We can’t just leave him!”
“The ambulance is on its way. I already called—”
“Look, he’s waving!”
Mille sees Mads lifting one arm and moving it from side to side.
He’s still alive.
Krista starts running back. Mille follows her hesitantly. Mads meets them halfway, holding his left arm tightly against his body. His T-shirt is stained with blood all the way down one side.
“You … you all right?” Krista asks, even though the answer is obvious.
Mads stops to catch his breath, swaying, and Krista grabs hold of him.
“It … it bit me …” Mads whispers, and Mille can’t help but see the gaping hole in his T-shirt. “It bit everyone … what the … hell … happened?” Mads seems confused, his eyes glazed and distant.
“I think you should sit down,” Krista says as she starts to sniffle. “The ambulance will be here in a minute. Mille already called it.”
“Mille?” Mads repeats dreamily as Krista clumsily helps him sit down by the side of the road. He looks up and focuses for a brief moment on Mille. The smile gliding over his face stings Mille right in the heart. “Hi,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised. Before she can think to answer, he closes his eyes and collapses.
“Mads?” Krista sobs, shaking him gently. “Mads?”
“It bit us all,” Mads repeats in a hoarse whisper, not opening his eyes.
Krista shakes her head. “I think he’s uncon
scious. Oh, no, he’s bleeding so much … what should we do, Mille? How do you make it stop?”
Mille doesn’t answer. She’s not hearing Krista at all. Something else has caught her attention. Over by the bus, another figure has appeared. It’s a girl, maybe Renée, judging from the yellow top. She runs stumbling right out onto the wheat field while looking back constantly. Another person emerges from the bus. It’s the old guy, the one Mille saw through the window. His scrawny, blood-covered frame is very recognizable, even from this far away. He staggers after Renée who gives a shriek and runs faster once she sees him.
Mille feels her heart beating in her throat. Somewhere, Krista says her name. Mille just stares at Renée, who luckily is increasing the distance from her pursuer—right up until she stumbles and falls over.
The old guy speeds up, like a predator sensing prey, reaching out his thin arms eagerly as he trudges through the knee-high wheat. Renée just manages to get back up, when the zombie grabs her hair and pulls her back down.
Thankfully, Mille can’t see what happens next, as both figures disappear into the golden wheat. But she hears Renée’s scream.
Krista also hears, because she turns to look back. “What was that? Someone else made it out?”
“No,” Mille says.
The sound of a car horn makes her spin around. For a moment, she hopes it’s the ambulance, but it’s not. A silvery station wagon is approaching them and slows down. A middle-aged Arab sticks his head out the window and asks in broken Danish: “Accident happen? He hurt?”
“Yes!” Krista says. “You need to take him to the hospital …”
“Hold on,” Mille begins, but Krista has already started hauling Mads to his feet, and the Arab parks the car and comes running out to help.
At that moment, Mille sees the next person come out of the bus. It’s a boy—Tommy, as far as she can tell. But he’s not fleeing, like Renée did. He’s just standing still, swaying for a moment. Then he turns his head around and looks directly towards her. He starts staggering this way.
“… Mille! …”
Behind him, two others emerge—a girl and a boy. The girl stumbles, and the boy tramples right over her, not minding her at all. Then another one comes out. And another one after that. Soon, her classmates are all around the bus, all of them moving in the same, sleepwalker-like manner. At first, they seem to just drift around, but then, one by one they apparently catch a scent, turn in this direction and begin walking.
“… Mille! …”
Tommy, who’s in front, is already halfway there. Mille can now tell he’s been bitten in the throat, and some of the tendons must have been severed, because his head is bopping sideways. The blood has gushed down his shirt. His eyes are strangely white, almost like someone rolling their eyes upwards, and now Mille can also make out the sound he’s making: a rattling, sticky growl.
“Mille, for God’s sake!” Krista grabs her hard by the shoulder. “Come on, will you? We’ve got to—” She cuts herself off abruptly, as she sees half of the class coming trudging at them. “Oh, my God …” she breathes. “They’re … they’re not … we have to … we have to help them …”
Suddenly, Mille can act again. She pulls Krista towards the car, where Mads is already lying in the backseat. She shoves Krista inside and slams the door, herself getting in the passenger seat. The Arab has also noticed the oncoming army of dead college students and is just standing there, outside the open driver’s side door.
“Hey, come on!” Mille shouts. “Get us out of here!”
She honks the horn, and the sound pulls the man out of his stupor. He gets in and fumbles to get the seat belt on.
Mille looks out and sees Tommy—who’s dangerously close now—speed up, as he seems to sense his chances for something to eat getting slimmer.
“Just go!” Mille screams.
The Arab forgets about the belt and guns it. He turns the car around in a wild arc, causing them all to be thrown sideways, the tires giving off a short, high-pitched screech against the hot asphalt—not nearly as impressive as tires do in the movies. Tommy’s outstretched fingers almost graze the sideview mirror where Mille is sitting, but then they’re speeding down the road, leaving him with the smell of burned rubber.
Mille sighs and leans back her head.
The driver keeps checking the rearview mirror while muttering to himself in Arabic.
“The paramedics will help them, right?” Krista sobs from the backseat. “They’ll be here any minute now, and then they’ll help them all, won’t they, Mille? Won’t they?”
“Yeah,” Mille murmurs. “Sure they will.”
Her thoughts are going around and around and can’t seem to find a reasonable place to land. Only twenty minutes ago she was reading an immature love letter from Mads. Now her entire class is turned into living dead, and Mads is dying on the backseat. Will he make it? Will they get him to the hospital in time?
Mille turns and looks at him. Krista has placed his head in her lap and is stroking his damp hair. His face is fiery red and oddly swollen. He looks like he’s in pain and he’s breathing rapidly.
It’s only a matter of minutes.
“I think he’ll make it,” Krista sobs, looking pleadingly at Mille. “He’ll make it, right? He’ll wake up in just a moment, won’t he?”
“Yes,” Mille whispers, her throat closing in on itself. One way or another …
FIVE
William drops the phone, jumps into the air and scrambles halfway across the gear shift, before he realizes the person outside the car is Janus.
“Jesus Christ, dude …”
His colleague tries to open the door, then looks in at William. “Unlock it, will you?”
“Other side,” William says, hitting the central lock. As Janus walks around the car, William picks his phone up off the floor. “Holger? … No, nothing happened. I’ll call you back, okay?”
He disconnects just as Janus gets in. William locks all the doors again immediately.
“I was just in the A&E,” Janus says, his voice tight. “I’ve never seen anything like it. All four cars were sent out at once. Something about a school bus that was attacked …” Janus glares at him. “What the hell is going on, Will?”
William takes a deep breath, then says it. “Zombies.”
“Zombies?” Janus raises his eyebrows. “Stop fucking around, I’m really not in the mood for—”
“I’m not. It’s fucking zombies, man. Go to the basement and see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Janus shakes his head slowly. “But … that doesn’t make any sense. I mean, how the hell …?” He moans and runs his hands through his hair.
“I know it’s completely mental. My head is just as fucked up as yours right now. I only found out like ten minutes ago.”
“You think it’s got something to do with that patient that went missing last night?”
“What patient?”
“You mean you didn’t hear? The whole place was upside down this morning when I got in. Some dude our age had been admitted for blood poisoning or something, and he just suddenly disappeared, like he had literally just got up and left. That’s what they think happened, anyway.”
William bites his lip, thinking about the zombie tied to the wheelchair. “That could have something to do with it, yeah.”
Janus is quiet for a moment, then looks demandingly at William. “Is it like Walking Dead? Will everything collapse?”
“I don’t know, man. Honestly. I just called my mom; she lives in the Netherlands. Nothing is going on down there—not as far as she knows, anyway. But maybe that means it hasn’t really broken out yet.”
Janus leans his head back and closes his eyes. “Fuck! This can’t be happening. What the hell are we going to do? I need to call Sofie … and my dad … and the rest of my family, and my friends, and—”
“Hold on,” William says as Janus goes for his phone. “We need to consider things first.”
“W
hat do you mean? What’s there to consider? We just need to get the hell away from here, as far as possible! We’ve got to go to an island or something. Isn’t that how Dawn of the Dead ends?”
“Yeah, and how many people you figure saw that movie?”
“Who cares about how many people saw it?”
“I do! Because the islands are going to be flooded by people as soon as everyone begins to realize what’s going down. And if just one of them brings the contagion out there, we would be trapped. Besides, food and resources would quickly become an issue. And how would we even get out there? I don’t have a boat, and—”
“All right, I get it! Bad idea. What’s your plan, then?”
“My uncle lives a few miles outside town. He has a safe place, like, survival-style, with power and water and food and the whole shebang. I just called him, and I’m going to meet him now.”
Janus frowns. “Why would he have a place like that? Did he know this was going to happen?”
“He used to suffer from paranoia. Like, for real. He was institutionalized and everything. He would talk about aliens coming to Earth one day to wipe us all out and stuff like that. So, he built this impressive underground safety room, big enough for someone to easily live in for years.”
Janus doesn’t exactly look impressed. “So that’s your plan? Living underground with a crazy uncle for years to come?”
“He’s not crazy anymore, he’s on medication now. He’s been fine for many years now. But yeah, that’s my plan for now. If you have a better one, I welcome you to try it, man. I’m simply offering you to come with me if you want.”
Janus seems to mull it over. His gaze drifts across the parking lot, where everything looks completely normal. He bursts into joyless laughter. “Come on, this isn’t really happening, dude.”
“If you need proof, it’s right in there.” William nods towards the building. “But I’m going now. You coming?” He turns the key and starts the engine. The radio, which as always is tuned in on a rock station, begins playing.
“What about Sofie?” Janus asks. “Can I bring her?”
William bites his lip. “All right, but only her. I think four people is the limit—at least if we’re going to have to stay for a while.”
Dead Meat (Book 3): Dead Meat [Day 3] Page 2