James walked over to the thieves and looked at them. As he looked, he could see that they were just as confused as he was about the situation. He had thought that everyone was dead, and then he had met Mike. No doubt the thieves had thought in the exact same way. He felt kind of smug inside, seeing them completely bewildered and disorganised when he and Mike ambushed them. He quickly shook this feeling off though, as self-pride in this job could quickly get you killed. He sized them all up, thinking which one would most likely pose the most threat to him in a fight. Two were of medium build, one with dark hair, one blonde. The third was taller and more built than the other two. This had to be the leader.
James pointed his MP5 at him. “You,” he said, “what's your name?”
“Martin,” the thief said.
“Are you the leader of your crew?”
Martin looked up at him. “You could say that, but being leader isn't going to help much now, is it?”
James nodded his head, contradictory to what Martin had said. “It won't help you,” he said, “but it's definitely going to help me. I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to give me answers.” James motioned towards the counters. “Now, we've already spoken to your ginger nut friend in there, and he's told us a whole lot about what's happened here. He's actually pretty nice, really keen to talk. Told me the built fellow with the shaved head made him do it. Now, I want you to tell me what happened.”
Martin knew James was bluffing. He felt like he was trying to get him to tell him something about the fog as though he actually knew something about it. Martin's first thought was of Colin
“How is Colin?” he asked James.
“He's alive at least. He killed a bank clerk, so he's in some serious trouble for that.”
“What? How do you know he killed him?” said Martin, unable to believe that Colin would do that to someone.
“Well, he's got three bullet holes in his chest and he certainly didn't do that to himself.”
Martin felt bad. Nobody on his team had ever killed anyone. It was a rule of the crew. Only injure if you have to, never kill. He looked James in the eyes. “Maybe he did kill him, but let's cut the bullshit. What the hell is going on here?”
James lowered his gun and stared at him. He didn't even feel the need to carry on the bad cop act. It was obvious these men were just as clueless as him. He was about to say something when a gut wrenching scream suddenly broke the air. He shone his torch in the direction of the scream. The dark haired thief, who had been sat closest to the dead people, was the one that was screaming. James didn't know what to make of what he was seeing. He stood dumbfounded at the sight in front of him blinking repeatedly as though trying to get his eyes to focus properly. He saw that the dead woman was somehow moving and had taken hold of his leg, and had then bitten clean into his flesh, right through the boiler suit.
Martin saw the scene in the glow of the flash light. “Dave!” he yelled. The woman pulled her head up, taking a chunk of Dave's calf with it. The meat clung to the leg with strands of meat that snapped back as they broke like elastic bands being stretched beyond their limits. Dave yelled and writhed in agony on the ground as the woman began chewing the flesh, the blood dribbling down her chin and dripping onto her already stained top. James just stared in shock. It took him a moment to digest in his head what was happening. It was Martins voice that snapped him out of it.
“Help him!” Martin yelled with a tone deep concern in his voice. James quickly moved over to the woman and kicked her to the floor. He grabbed hold of Dave and pulled him backwards away from her, a trail of blood forming as his leg dragged across the floor.
James saw Martin and Gaz trying to move away from the scene. He nodded to Mike and the two of them pulled the thieves up off the floor so they walk away from the woman. “Mike, put pressure on that wound,” he ordered. Mike pulled off his yellow jacket and used it press the wound. James looked back at the woman. She didn't react to the additional commotion. She just sat up slowly and continued to chew on the piece of Dave's leg. Her face was expressionless although hypnotised. The milky eyes didn't blink and just stared into the air as though focused on something, but still looking beyond everything in front of them. As he watched James became aware of more movement. The man, who just a second ago also laid there dead, was now starting to roll over.
“What the hell is going on?” a voice said, and James then realised the words had escaped his lips unconsciously. He watched, actually afraid now, as the man slowly got up to his feet and looked at him with his milky, dead eyes. James couldn't move. He just stood there watching. He looked away to see everyone else around had the same scared look he probably had. He looked back at the man whose mouth opened and let out a soft, yet chilling, moan.
Nobody knew what to do. The man who had led there dead for the best part of an hour was now standing looking right at them. The woman he was with was now just about done with chewing on part of Dave's leg, and realising her mouth was empty, she now started to get to her feet. The movement was slow and clumsy. She supported herself on her hands until she got herself to a point at which her feet were flat on the floor and she was bent right forward, her hands still supporting her upper body weight. The she lurched back in a motion similar to that of someone throwing their hair back from in front of their face. It looked as though she over did this move, as she fell clumsily back against the wall, steadied herself and then pushed herself off it again to regain her balance. Now the two animated corpses stood there, mouths slightly agape, staring at the people in the bank.
James was still holding his gun, frozen with shock due to what had just happened. The woman was the first to move, taking a shaky step towards him, almost as a baby would who was learning to walk. Slowly she came, but step by step she got closer. James held his hand up.
“Stop right there,” he said in a shaky voice, the fear and dryness of his throat very apparent in the way he spoke. She didn't respond. She just took another step forward, staring at him the whole time with an expressionless face. James repeated himself, but she took another step, this time letting out a slight hiss and baring her blood stained teeth. Now the man was moving as well, taking the first couple of unsure baby steps like the woman did, but then built his pace to a shambling walk. James raised his gun this time. “Stop where you are!” he shouted, the fear still in his voice. The two kept coming.
“Shoot them!” shouted Gaz, standing next to Martin and still handcuffed. The group took a step back as the dead edged closer.
James spoke again. “Stop or I'll shoot!” he said, but they still kept coming. James didn't know what to do. The sight of the woman eating part of Dave's leg and the fact that two previously dead individuals were now up and moving around freely had broken his confidence and force and he was left like a fish out of water. One more step and she would have him. Whether or not the previous events had happened, he couldn't shake the fact these were civilians. It wasn't in his job to kill civilians. He steadied his finger on the trigger. He stepped back and prepared to fire, but his foot stood right on the body of Conner and he stumbled backwards over it. As he looked up, Conner was now moving, as though disturbed from a long sleep. He watched as he sat up slowly, a long string of dribble pouring from one corner of his mouth. His eyes locked with the dead milky eyes of the thief as his lips pulled back and bared his teeth.
The next thing he knew was that, without warning, the room was suddenly filled with noise, a deafening series of loud bangs in quick succession, accompanied by flashing lights. The torsos of the dead man and woman ripped open with several gunshots, a mixture of blood and a pinkish puss spilling from the open holes and spraying the wall behind them as the bullets exited through their backs. They staggered back and fell over. The sound ceased for a second, then started again, this time it was Conner who buckled behind the bullets, one of them hitting him on the right hand side of his forehead, throwing his head back as a perfect line of blood squirted from the open wound. James turned
to see Mike, the man who had previously been so against just holding a gun, let alone fire one, now standing there looking down the sights of it, the barrel smoking. Mike lowered the gun and looked at James. James nodded in appreciation.
The group stood there looking in disbelief at the three corpses and the mess of blood, puss and entrails plastered to the wall. Mike stepped closer to James and helped him up.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” said James, “I don't know what happened, I just froze up,” he quietly added.
“It's okay, don't worry about it.” Mike turned around and looked at the group. Colin stood watching from behind the counters. Martin and Gaz stood side by side, their hands still shackled behind their backs. Yvonne was standing with tears in her eyes, Craig comforting her with an arm around her shoulders. Mike stepped back to Dave and continued applying pressure to the wound on his leg.
James went to step forward but was stopped by another moan. He looked back to see the source of the noise and shone his torch into the faces of the man and woman, now sat up and staring at them again. “How is this possible?” James thought. He looked at them, all bloodied and disfigured. They should have been dead. They each had around five bullets in their centre masses. James wasn't hesitating any more. He pointed his gun and fired from the hip. He held the trigger and sprayed bullets at the corpses, a few hitting them in the chest. The bodies buckled as the bullets entered their bodies and exited out the back, but their faces weren't really reacting to what was happening to them. James stopped firing to see that their faces hadn't changed. They showed no signs of pain or anger. They just kept staring with those dead eyes, then moaned again and began struggling to get up. James looked at Conner who wasn't moving any more. He noticed the bullet hole in his head then felt a power take hold of him. Almost acting on instinct now, his fear either gone or momentarily forgotten, he stepped over to them and kicked the woman hard in the side of her head. As his steel toe capped boots met her temple, he felt her skull give way. His foot punched a huge dent in her head, and she landed in a heap on the floor, no longer moaning or moving. He stood in front of the man, pointed the gun barrel at his face and pulled the trigger. Three rounds fired in a burst that caused the man’s head to explode, spraying James' flak jacket with a putrid mix of blood, skull and mashed up brains. The body fell back and remained still. James stood on the spot breathing heavily. He watched for a moment, but neither one of them moved again. They weren't getting up after that.
James turned to the rest of the group who were looking at him as though looking at a raged beast. Yvonne was being held by Craig, sobbing into his chest, Gaz and Martin looked at him as though afraid of him. Mike was still holding his jacket against Dave's leg, who himself was looking like he was in agony, and all the gun fire and screaming wasn't going to take his mind off that fact. James didn't know what to say, so he just bowed his head and walked past the group. He stopped at the counter. Colin stepped over to him from behind it.
“It's okay you know, you had to do it,” he said to James.
James looked at him with a stern look. “Don't talk to me,” he said, and walked away from him.
Martin was the next to speak. “Okay, what the hell are we going to do now?”
“How the hell would I know!” shouted James.
Martin wasn't going to back down, he was the first to realise a horrible truth. “Look, whatever is going on, has it not occurred to you that we have a whole towns' worth of dead people out there?”
James looked at him hard and then he looked back at the corpses in the corner, an in an instant he came to the terrible realisation that Martin was right. There could be a whole town of walking corpses. “Oh my God,” he said aloud.
Martin continued. “Take the cuffs off us,” he said, “whatever happens, we need to work together now.”
James found he actually laughed out loud at this suggestion. “You think we can trust you? The thieves and the murderer over there?” he pointed at Colin, who sheepishly bowed his head.
“Oh, and what are you two going to do? Take on the entire population of a town on your own like Super Cop and his side kick? You think you can do it with what you've got?” Martin nodded towards the MP5's and the weapons they had taken from the thieves.
James sighed heavily and shook his head. He had to be realistic. The amount of bullets he and Mike had used to take down just three of the corpses would be unsustainable against thousands of them. “What do you suppose we do?” he asked him.
“Take the cuffs off us, and we get out there and take whatever we can from the armed response vehicles. We need to be able to make a stand against them.”
“If the same happens out there what happened to them?” James said, looking more for a response that would put his mind at ease as opposed to questioning Martin's intentions.
“Yeah, if,” said Martin.
James paused again. He looked at Mike who also seemed to be thinking. “What do you think Mike?” he asked.
Mike looked at him. “I think he's right,” he replied. “If the same happens out there, then we can't hold them off. The glass is security glass but get enough of them together I don't know if they could force it down.”
James shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked at Martin sternly. “If you do anything I don't like, I'll kill you myself,” he said.
Martin actually smiled at him. “I believe you,” he said, “now get these cuffs off me.”
James stepped over and started with Gaz. He took his cuffs off and handed him a key. Gaz walked to the counter and climbed over to take Colin's cuffs off. While he did this, James removed the cuffs from Martin's wrists then crouched to take Dave's cuffs off. Once his hands were free, Mike grabbed them and moved them to the wound on Dave's leg.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked him. “Keep pressure on it.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah, no problem,” he said with a grimace. Mike stood up and moved next to James. He looked over and saw Gaz and Colin climbing back over the counter. Colin caught the eye of Craig and looked away again. He still felt like he couldn't look him in the eye. Martin grabbed him by the arms like a father would his son in a moment of pride. It wasn't out of pride though. Martin could see how the killing of the bank clerk had affected Colin just by looking at him. He just wanted to try and let him know it didn't matter anymore. Colin crouched next to Dave on the floor. Martin turned back to James with Gaz standing by his side.
“We need our guns back,” he told him.
“Okay,” he said and nodded at Mike, “give them back.”
Mike and James removed the extra weapons and handed them back. Martin checked the barrels of his shot gun and saw both shells still remained, and then he pocketed the extra shells. Gaz removed the clip to his sub-machine machine gun, checked his ammo and then reloaded it into the gun, and Dave and Colin checked their pistols were in good order. Martin looked at Mike who still had Conner's assault rifle on his back.
“I'm keeping this for now,” he said to Martin.
“Okay, but I want it back eventually.”
“What now, fearless leader?” said James to Martin, the sarcasm obvious in his tone of voice.
“We need to get out there and try the cars. With any look the batteries won't be flat.”
James looked at him. “Well who's going out there?”
Martin smiled. “You and me,” he replied.
James paused a second. “Fine,” he replied. “Mike, keep an eye on this bunch will you.” He walked to the door ready to open it.
Martin looked back and smiled at Mike. “Gaz, Dave, Colin, keep an eye on this guy will you?” He then followed James to the door.
Chapter 5
Martin and James walked through the door of the bank to the street outside. James looked back and gave Mike a gesture to make sure that he locked the door behind him. Ahead of them, the two men could make out the flashing lights of the police vehicles, and pretty much
nothing else. The streets were silent. Nothing could be heard, and apart from the blue flashing lights, they could only see about two arm lengths ahead of them. James shone the light from his gun ahead of them, but it made little difference. James had first-hand experience in the fog so knew what to expect, but Martin hadn't and therefore felt uneasy. The purple hue of the fog just screamed 'evil' at him, and he couldn't really control his breathing too well. It felt damp and clammy against his face, which wasn't helping matters.
“You know, I may have been wrong,” he said to James, “this may be a bad idea.”
James looked at him. “Listen,” he said, “get a hold of yourself, okay? The cars are right there, keys in the ignition, and I've got the key for the security box on the ARU vehicle. Just watch your step.”
James set off slowly towards the lights with Martin following closely. It seemed to take an age, but Martin then noticed the shape of the first police car come into view. James motioned with his hand telling Martin to go around the car. They side stepped to get around the car, all the while looking around themselves, listening intently to hear any noises that suggested they weren't alone. As they made it round the car, James shone his torch down and they came across what looked like an open grave. A mix of armed police and civilians, who must have tried to outrun the fog, lay dead in the road. All of their faces had the same boils and seeping wounds on them, the hair on their heads mostly fallen out. To prevent himself from losing his nerve, Martin just focused on not stepping on any of them. James held his hand up and pointed at the second row of blue lights. Martin looked and could just about make out the shapes of the cars in the torch light. James began moving towards them, stepping over and in between bodies as he went. Martin followed his exact path, tentatively tracing his steps as though not wanting to disturb the corpses, like kicking one would wake them all up in one massive chain reaction.
As they approached the car, James shone the torch on the rear of the vehicle, illuminating the yellow badge indicating that this was an armed response vehicle. James moved to the back of the car and pulled some keys out of his pockets. He fumbled at first, but got the key in the lock and opened the boot of the car. Inside Martin saw three slots, each one the shape of an MP5 sub-machine gun. Alongside each were slots containing magazines, some containing emergency flares and a few other slots for boxes of 9mm bullets. James pulled a folded up bag form a side compartment within the boot and handed it to Martin.
The Purple Haze Page 5