The Purple Haze

by Gary Richardson

  On hearing this, Yvonne sat up again. “You like doing this kind of crap?” she said.

  “Yeah,” Gaz said, “why wouldn't I? We had a decent set up. We split everything equally and we wouldn't kill anyone. The worst case scenario is we get caught and go to prison.”

  “And that doesn't deter you from doing what you do?” Yvonne asked.

  “Why would it?” Gaz said, again in a very matter of fact tone. “Prisons are a joke in this country. Look at it this way. You, as a bank manager, spend your days in a room that's about seven feet by seven feet. Prison cells are bigger than that. You get medical treatment, your meals prepared for you. Why would I be bothered about going to prison? Why work yourself to death when you can just take what you want and if it goes wrong, you get an easy life having everything handed to you?”

  Yvonne shook her head. “I don't buy it, not at all. It's people like you that make this country what it is. A place where hard working people are forgotten and bastards like you get everything.”

  Gaz looked away back out the window. “Well, think what you want,” he said, “but just remember that when the shit hits the fan, we've got the guns to protect you.”

  Yvonne led back down again. “Look, let’s forget about this. I'm tired. I'm going back to sleep.”

  Gaz smiled at her. “Don't let the bed bugs bite,” he said, and then he went to lie down next to Colin. Before he had made it to his makeshift bed, a scream from outside the bank stopped him his tracks. He looked at the window, then back at Yvonne, who too was looking at the window. The scream was muted slightly by the windows, but was audible enough to be identified as female, and definitely within mere yards of the bank. Gaz looked at the rest of the group who had been sleeping, but a human scream was enough to cause them to stir and wake up.

  “What was that?” asked James.

  “Someone's outside,” said Gaz, “sounds like they're close too.”

  James jumped up from his bed and moved quickly to the windows. He peered out, trying his best to make out anything down on the street, but between the elevation of the building and the thickness of the fog, he could not see anything. He pointed at Gaz through the dim light. “You,” he said commandingly, “come with me.” He picked up his MP5 and flicked the switch on the torch mounted on the barrel. The room lit up, blinding the survivors for a moment. Gaz picked up his gun and checked the magazine, then reloaded and cocked his weapon. “Everybody else stays in here,” James said as he left the staff room, Gaz following closely behind him.

  The two of them moved cautiously down the stairs. James led the way, lighting it with his torch. They reached the bottom and James opened the door leading to the corridor. He leaned out, weapon ready to fire at anything that may have got inside. He looked from one end of the corridor to other. All was clear. Without speaking he gestured with his hand for Gaz to follow, and the two of them moved quickly to the door leading through the cashier area of the bank. In a Crouching position now, James turned off his torch to hide his presence, slowly opened the door and quickly swept the area for any possible threat. The body of Simon remained on the floor, unchanged from the last time he had seen it. He motioned for Gaz to follow and keep low, and the two moved into the bank and squatted behind the cashier desks.

  James slowly popped his head to look at the windows. He found it difficult to make out through the blood and brains smeared across them, but in the street he could make out the shapes of the shambling creatures moving away from the bank. He waited a moment until the last one had gone, then climbed over the desk into the lobby of the bank. He moved to the window and peered through a clear gap. He felt Gaz's presence as he moved in next to him.

  “Where are they going?” asked Gaz.

  “I've no idea,” James replied, “but it's clear somebody's out there.”

  The pair watched for another minute before Gaz spoke again. “What should we do?”

  “There's nothing we can do,” said James, “we go out there looking for whoever screamed and we could end up lost out there in the fog.” They watched for another moment. Before long the crowd of walking corpses were neither visible nor audible. “We better get back upstairs,” said James, and the two of them moved away from the window.

  Back upstairs the other survivors waited anxiously for James and Gaz to return. The sound of the scream had spooked them, Yvonne more noticeably than the others. She kept repeating things like “we aren't going to survive,” and “I don't want to die.” Craig was trying his best to comfort her, but it wasn't working effectively. The group jumped and turned at the sound of the door to the staff room opening. James and Gaz entered.

  “What was it?” Martin asked.

  “We couldn't see anything,” Gaz answered, “but those things at the window have gone. They must have followed the sound of the scream.”

  “Well that's good,” said Craig “means we can get away.”

  “Nobody's going anywhere tonight,” James said. “We all need to get some sleep. The fact we haven't been attacked in here so far shows they definitely can't get in, so take advantage and get rested. We'll decide what to do in the morning.” The group all moved back to their own beds and settled down. They didn't hear the scream again throughout the night.

  Dave was the first to wake up the following morning. Despite the wound on his leg, he had slept okay. He had managed to swing his legs up onto the sofa in the staff room and was able to sleep in a comfortable position despite Mike's jacket wrapped around his leg. He looked around the room and saw that it was definitely day time, plenty of light was filling the room from the windows. He could clearly see the rest of the survivors. Gaz and Colin were still asleep in one corner of the room, Mike was asleep in another corner along with Craig and Yvonne, and Martin and James were sleeping about as far apart as they could get along another wall of the room. He thought this odd since they had worked well when they had to go out on the street the previous night, but it was obvious that James didn't trust Martin. He didn't blame him for this, being a police officer it would be impossible for him to completely trust a group of bank robbers.

  Dave swung his legs around carefully, trying not to cause any more pain than he was already in. He sat upright for a moment, listening to the air around him. He couldn't hear anything from the streets, but without getting up and going to the window he couldn't be sure that the streets were clear, and he didn't want to get up on his own and run the risk of falling down and then not being able to get up. He looked down at his leg. An overwhelming desire took him over to see the wound on it clearly. Given the commotion from when the wound was inflicted he hadn't had a good chance to see it. He lifted his leg slowly and propped it up on the table in front of the sofa. Gingerly he began to untie the knot holding the jacket in place and he carefully unwound it. What he saw frightened him so much it took the wind out of his lungs. The wound was horrible. Blood was still seeping from the gauge, and the skin around it was covered in blisters not unlike the boils that covered the faces of the creatures outside. His breathing quickened. He didn't know what to think. Were the bites infectious? Was he going to die from this wound? He shook the thoughts out of his head quickly. Apart from the pain in his leg, he felt all right. Nothing was going to happen, he told himself. He wrapped up the leg and leant back into the sofa.

  Colin stirred and woke up. He sat up and looked around, seeing that Dave was awake. He got up and went to sit next to him.

  “How are you doing?” he asked him.

  “All right, I think,” replied Dave, “my leg hurts like a son of a bitch but I'm okay.”

  “That's good. As long as you feel all right then you shouldn't have too many problems.” Colin stood up again and looked out the window. He was amazed at what he saw outside. The fog had cleared away quite a lot during the time they had been sleeping. He could now see across to the other side of the street, and everything in the street, but not quite all the way to either end of it. The police vehicles and the ambulances were still there, the
blue lights now no longer flashing. Apart from the vehicles, the streets were deserted. There was no trace left outside that there ever was a crazed horde of apparently cannibalistic creatures intent on getting into the bank and attacking them, apart from the few that had been killed by Martin and James when they went out there. He turned around at the sound of rustling, and he saw that Craig was waking up. Colin looked back out the window. He still didn't want to talk to Craig because of the guilt he felt over shooting his colleague. He heard footsteps, and felt the presence of someone next to him. He looked and saw it was Craig.

  “How's it looking out there?” he asked him.

  “It looks clear,” replied Colin “I can't see anyone out there.”

  “Good, let's hope we don't see any of them again.” Craig looked at Dave sat on the sofa. “How's he doing?”

  “He seems okay, considering he's missing a chunk out of his leg. Says he's in pain but feels all right.” Colin continued looking out the window, not really wanting to speak to Craig too much. Craig picked up on this.

  “Look about last night,” he said.

  “I don't want to talk about it,” Colin replied sharply.

  “I know you didn't want to kill anyone. What happened to Simon was an accident. I know it isn't the best way to meet anyone, being taken hostage and what not, but looking at what we are up against now, we need to put it behind us. We need to work together.”

  Colin looked at Craig. He saw sincerity in his face but it didn't really make him feel any better. He was glad that Craig had spoken to him because he at least felt like he could talk to him if he needed to, but the guilt still lingered heavily inside him.

  James woke up sharply. He hadn't slept too soundly through the night. The thought of the creatures outside trying to get in had woken him up a couple of times, but when he was sleeping he was having nightmares about his family and what could have possibly happened to them. He’d had vivid dreams of them being killed by a group of those creatures, only in his dreams the creatures had bigger mouths filled with razor sharp fangs that shredded the flesh off his wife and children while he stood powerless to do anything. The worst dream was one of his wife, now one of those things, ripping his daughters limb from limb then feasting on their legs like they were chicken drumsticks, the eyes of his dead girls wide open looking right him.

  He tried to banish the images from his mind. He wiped his eyes and looked around the room. Craig and Colin were stood at the window looking at him, Dave was sat up on the sofa and everyone else was starting to wake up. James stood up and went over the window next to where Craig and Colin were and looked outside. He was surprised at how much the visibility had improved and he scanned the street for any signs of the creatures that had attacked him. He only saw ones he had killed. “Where the hell have they gone?” he said aloud.

  “That's what we were just wondering,” he heard Craig say. “Weird, isn't it?”

  “You can say that again,” James replied. He looked around the room. “Is there any food? Or water?”

  Craig pointed to the kitchenette through an archway at the other side of the room. “There's some bread and bottled water in there, but not a lot else. Since the powers out I'd assume there won't be any morning coffee.”

  James went into the kitchenette and looked in the fridge and immediately saw the power hadn't come back at all since the light didn't come on. There was some milk in there, and some butter. He looked in the cupboards and found the bread and bottled water. He poked his head round the archway to see everyone was up now. “I'm going to make some bread and butter. We all need to keep our energy levels up.” He got to work on preparing some food for the group.

  Back in the staff room, everyone had gathered around the window. Yvonne looked out in disappointment. She was hoping that the fog would have cleared completely. She didn't know why but she wanted to see the sky. Just a bit of clear blue sky, to show that something natural was still functioning in the world, and she would have felt more at ease. “What's going to happen now?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” Gaz replied.

  “Well there must be someone out there who knows what's going on. Don't the government have plans for this sort of thing? Like a rescue plan or a containment plan?”

  “We don't know how far this has spread and where too.” Mike said, “We have to assume that the government had no idea about this, and that they too are most likely in our situation, or worse.”

  “So you don't think they'll be rescuing us any time soon?” she said.

  “Well we haven't sent any communications or received any,” Mike said, “and we only have a limited range on these radios. Nobody will know we are here.”

  “Well why aren't you on the radio trying to get hold of somebody?” she said, sounding angry. “If you think that there may be someone out there, find them!”

  Mike, without realising it, fell back into crowd control mode and held his hands up in a calming gesture. “Look, we will do that, but we have to tend to ourselves first. Dave's leg needs looking at and dressing properly, and we all need to eat something. Once we have done all that and we are all feeling a little more awake, me and James will get on our radios and try and raise someone. We have designated emergency frequencies and if anyone has a radio, they'll be listening.”

  Yvonne walked away from the window and sat against the wall. She pulled her legs to her chest and buried her face in her arms. The rest of the group moved away from the window and gathered around the table. Mike looked at Dave's leg.

  “Craig? Is there a first aid kit anywhere?” he said.

  “Yeah it's in the kitchen.”

  “Can you bring it for me? I need dress Dave's leg properly.”

  Craig went into the kitchen and came back with the first aid kit. Mike opened it up to see what was in it. Bandages, plasters, wound wash and a tube of disinfectant cream. He emptied the contents onto the table. “Right, let's have a look.” Carefully, he unwound the jacket from around the leg and looked at the wound. He was immediately concerned by what he saw. He looked at Dave, and Dave saw the look on his face.

  “I've seen it already,” he said, “I know how it looks but I feel fine.”

  “I know you do, but this looks infected,” Mike replied, “We need to get you some antibiotics. I can dress this now, but without proper medication the infection will spread.”

  “Look, don't worry about it,” Dave said sternly.

  “They probably have antibiotics in the ambulances,” Gaz said.

  “Yeah, that's a good idea,” said Mike, “We'll need to get some of those.”

  “Don't be risking anyone for me,” Dave said, “it isn't worth it.”

  “Shut up with that crap right now,” Mike said, this time he was sounding quite stern. “Nobody is worth losing here, and that includes you. Now shut up and let me dress this.” Mike proceeded to wash the wound and applied the cream to it. Then he wrapped it tightly in bandages.

  James came into the room carrying a plate in one hand, a stack of glasses in the other and a two litre bottle of water under his arm. He put them all down on the table. The plate had a loaf's worth of sliced bread all spread rather messily with butter.

  “It doesn't look like much but it'll have to do for now,” James said. “We should get away with a couple of slices each and half a glass of water for now. At least it's something.” Nobody complained about the modest breakfast or the state of the bread. Until the food was down on the table, nobody had really even thought about food. They all ate and drank in silence. Once they had all finished, James was the first to speak.

  “Does anybody have any ideas on what we ought to do here?”

  “Well,” said Mike, “I know it's a risk but we need to check the ambulances outside for antibiotics. The bite on Dave's leg is infected.”

  James nodded. “Okay, we'll do that.”

  “Before we do, though, we need to scan the radios in case anyone is out there, and we can't stay here without food or water.”r />
  “Yeah, you're right. I'll get on the radio now.” James stood up and went into the kitchenette, Mike following. The rest of the group heard the static sounds from the radios and the two officers speaking into them.

  “What happens if there isn't anyone out there?” Craig asked.

  “Then we find somewhere we can hold up until we can figure out exactly what to do,” Martin said. “Whatever happens, Mike is right, we can't stay here without food.”

  “I don't think I can go out there,” Yvonne said, “not after what I saw last night.”

  “We don't have a choice, Yvonne,” said Gaz, “it's either that or we stay here and starve to death. We have guns, we just need some supplies and we'll be good for a while.”

  “Exactly,” said Martin, “don't worry about those things. They don’t appear to have very good mobility. As long as we don't run into too many of them we'll be able to handle it.”

  In the kitchen, James and Mike were trying all of the emergency frequencies. So far neither one of them had had any luck in getting a response. James tuned into one, called out SOS, got no reply, and then tuned into another. Mike did the same. It seemed pointless, but then James tuned into a station and without even having to say anything, the radio was speaking to him. The speech was broken due to signal strength, but there was definitely a voice there.

  “I got something!” he said to Mike.

  The two stood shoulder to shoulder listening to James' radio. They figured that the message was recorded and would be playing on a loop as it was giving out instructions. They listened and heard that there was emergency shelter at the Spring Meadow Community Centre.

  “That's about three miles from here,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, on foot and with Dave hobbling the whole way, it could take some time,” James said, sounding a little annoyed that the message hadn't given a more local address.

  “What do you think?” Mike asked.

  James sighed. “Well, as long as we take it slow, don’t attract any attention and have no problems, we could do it in about two hours. Like you say, we'll get antibiotics from the ambulance first, and then we'll set off.”