“We watched at least two of those things get inside, but God knows how many more are in there. We have to get that door shut and get rid of whatever is in there.”
“Can’t we just pull the gate down and leave them in there?” Trent asked, looking none too pleased about having to fight any more of those things.
“No,” I countered, “it won’t be safe. We don’t know how strong those security gates are. And if more and more keep finding their way inside, it could only be so long before they managed to tear it down.”
I glanced at Nolan and he nodded almost imperceptibly. “Besides,” he added on, “you think you’re going to be able to sleep or feel even a little safe knowing that those things are so close? I don’t think so. Did you guys find anything useful?” he asked, looking between us all.
Karla held up her shotgun with a smile, and I swung my bag around and unzipped it so everyone could see the small armory I was walking around with. I’d picked it back up at the last moment before we’d left the security room, and I was glad I had. We spread the weapons out between us as equally as possible, so we all had a gun and a knife of some sort. Jamie made sure Alexa was armed with both items too. Apparently she was a mean shot with a rifle. I couldn’t deny that I felt unprepared for this. Damn Britain and our no-gun policy.
Nolan led us silently forwards, towards the unassuming Starbucks; it seemed quiet at first, but the closer we got the more noises we could hear coming from somewhere inside it. The security gate was all the way up, and bodies lay prone and bloody on the floor. I tried not to look at them, barring to avoid stepping on anyone, but Alexa whimpered quietly behind me. I couldn’t blame her; I wanted to do the same thing. This was not normal, and I was barely holding on. I could only imagine how she must have been feeling. She was just a kid, and the ramifications of the things she had killed earlier, and the uncertain future that lay ahead of her, must have been starting to hit her hard.
I held a hammer in one hand and a large knife in the other. I would have liked a proper sword of some kind, but Akhira had found the only one and kept it for himself. Still, the blade I was holding wasn’t anything to sniff at either. Thank God security had taken it from whoever had been carrying it. Who knows what they planned on doing. I had a gun also, but I’d never even held a gun before, much less shot one, so I chose to stick with my knife.
Nolan stopped and looked back briefly at us before pointing towards a door at the back of the coffee shop. It looked like it was a door that could swing in or out, so there was no real reason why the things trapped inside hadn’t made their way out.
Trent stumbled on a chair and banged into a table, knocking over a cup of coffee that was on top of it. We all cringed and held our breaths as we waited to see what would happen next. Part of me believed that it would be fine, that nothing would have heard the commotion, but the other part of me—the self-preservation part—knew better.
Seconds later the door of what I assumed to be the kitchen—or a staff room, perhaps—swung open as more of the shambling abominations marched out to greet us.
“Fuck,” Trent said, loud enough to draw the zombies’ attentions even more to us. “Double fuck!” he said, and took a step backwards, slipping once again on the bloody floor and slamming his hip into the table. “Fuck!” he called out, his voice high-pitched.
“Shut up!” Sam and I said at the same time, turning to glare at Trent.
“Alexa, get behind me, baby,” Jamie said, raising his weapon—a metal baseball bat—high.
“Dad, I can do this,” she insisted, though the fear on her face told a very different story.
Jamie glowered at her and pushed her back behind him. I couldn’t blame him; I would have done the same thing in his situation.
More of the zombies filtered through the door, bumping into one another and headed in our direction. From my count, there were ten of them, and however many more still in that room, and they were going to keep on coming until we closed that door.
“I’m going for the door,” I said, moving away from the group and heading to the right. “I’ll get it shut.” Was I trying to be brave and heroic? Yes. Because somehow I had to make up for my earlier lapse. I had to be useful or I was fucking useless. And useless would wind up getting me dead.
Leon and Sam automatically separated from the group and followed me, and Nolan grunted an “okay” to us before using the large hunting knife he’d chosen to bang on the table next to him and draw the attention of the zombies.
“This way, you fucking freaks!” he bellowed. “Lunch is served!” He continued to bang and all the zombies focused in on him and continued their stumbling assembly towards him and the others.
I slipped as quietly as I could towards the door and prayed that there weren’t any more of them in there. As I swung the door inwards, I knew automatically that my prayers had not been answered. There were still four of them, from where I could see, moving around clumsily. None of these looked like employees of Starbucks. Instead they looked like travelers, wearing shorts and T-shirts, or khaki pants and a shirt. They’d been going on holiday, or off to visit family, not expecting to wind up dead. And now there we were to end them for good. My stomach ached at the thought.
Leon moved past me and headed to the left, using his knife to stab through the side of one of the zombies’ heads—a white woman with long blond hair that trailed down her back, though now it was more red than blond. Blood sprayed out and I had the sudden image that they weren’t zombies anymore, but people. Real people who were just sick and could be fixed so that they didn’t foam at the mouth in hunger when they saw people.
“Rose.” Leon whispered my name loudly and I nodded as he pulled out his knife and the body fell to the floor.
Sam passed me on the right, navigating her way around the small kitchen towards the back door we could see hanging open. It was swinging back and forth, making a clicking noise like it wanted to close but couldn’t quite do it, and I hoped that that wasn’t going to be an issue for us or we were screwed.
One of the zombies startled me as it made a guttural growl and tried to grab me. I hadn’t realized it had gotten so close since I’d been looking at the door, and by the time I did it was too late and it had me in its grip. And bloody hell, it was strong.
I let out a small yelp as I tried to pull myself out of its grip, but it was stronger than me. Much stronger. It didn’t feel any pain as I lashed out and pushed at it and kicked. And as it brought its mouth closer to me, ready to sink its bloodied teeth into my skull, I gripped my hammer hard and swung with everything I had, letting instinct and survival take over.
I felt the impact of its head against my hammer, its grip loosening marginally until I swung again and felt the splash of something rain down on me. Its grip loosened even more and I shrugged out of its hold. The thing was staring at me, its eyes red with blood as more dark, thick crimson trailed out of the hole in its skull from the hammer hit.
It snapped its jaws, but something was very wrong with it as it didn’t move to grab me again. I felt sick, the feeling of my hammer cracking the skull ricocheting down my arm still vibrant. I looked over as Sam reached the door and let out a small scream, and then I looked back at the zombie and gritted my teeth before swinging my hammer again.
That time it fell to the ground motionless.
I swallowed the vomit that tried to move up my throat and immediately made my way to help Sam. As I moved around the metal worktops, I saw what her problem was. A zombie was lying on the ground, its lower half missing and its intestines splaying out behind it like a fancy cloak. It had a hold of her left ankle and was not letting go no matter what.
The evening was dark, and hot and fires were still burning rampant and wild in the distance, the smell of them permeating my senses. The sound of sirens and screams could be heard coming from God only knew where. But worse still was that more of those things—the zombies or whatever they were—were heading our way.
Sam let out ano
ther scream and I ran to her, using my booted foot to kick the zombie on the floor in the face. Its head jerked back but its grip still didn’t loosen. Leon was making his way towards us now too, having taken out two other zombies. Leon dropped to his knees and slammed his knife into the side of its head as I reached for the door, pulling on it hard. Just as it was about to close, something pushed against it, stopping it. I moved around Sam to get a better look, and all the while the zombies outside were getting closer and closer as they growled and salivated at the sight of me stood out in the open like I was a nude window display and they were the perves getting ready to touch themselves at the sight of me.
The sound of guns going off loudly in the main area of the Starbucks was making me panic. The realization that more of these things would be drawn to that sound made my hands shake.
I pulled on the door again, frustration and fear burning through me, but once again it bounced back open. I looked down, seeing something on the floor, and I crouched down to get a better look, my heartrate increasing with every passing second.
“It’s a leg,” I whispered as I spied the problem. “Oh my god, it’s just a fucking leg!” I laughed and grabbed hold of the bloody appendage, having to tug on it somewhat because it was firmly wedged between the door and the frame.
I managed to pull it out after one last tug, falling backwards on my arse with an “oomph” as Sam leaned over and finally, blissfully, mercifully, slammed the door closed.
Sam looked down at me. “You okay?”
I nodded, feeling slightly hysterical but okay. “Yeah, you?”
“Yeah, I think so,” she replied, patting herself over to make sure.
“I got blood on my arse,” I said as I felt it seeping into my clothing.
We looked over at Leon and he smirked. “You thinking of keeping that?” he asked.
I looked at my hand, or should I say, I looked at the leg still firmly in my hand. “Oh, God!” I shuddered and threw it away. “Hell no,” I said, and clambered back up to standing. “Let’s go check on the others.”
We headed back out of the kitchen and into the main café, each of us hoping that was the last of those things that we’d have to kill, but also somehow knowing that things wouldn’t be that simple.
Nolan was putting down the last of them as we swung the door open, his gaze rising to meet ours as his zombie fell to the ground.
“Well?” he asked with a grunt.
“It’s sorted,” I replied, and he nodded in appreciation.
“Thank the Lord for that,” Karla said before wiping off the end of her shotgun, which was covered in meaty chunks.
“Now what?” Jamie asked breathlessly.
I sat down at the nearest table with a sigh, my foot kicking something on the floor. “Now we make sure everywhere is completely secure, gather some more supplies, and settle in for the night.” I flinched as I looked under the table, dreading what I might find.
“And pray that someone comes to help soon,” Sam added on, sitting on the floor and hugging her knees.
“Yeah, that too,” I agreed.
But I somehow doubted it would be that easy.
I reached under the table and grabbed the gray teddy bear that lay there, bringing it up to the table so I could see it properly and automatically wishing that I hadn’t. It was sprayed with blood, and grief clawed at my chest when I thought of who this would have belonged to.
“You okay?” Sam asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.
My gaze was still on the bloody teddy bear when I answered her. “Not really.” I glanced up, and our gazes connected sadly.
We didn’t have to say anything else.
Chapter seven.
Sam
W e were back in the security room, all trying to recover from the bloodshed.
I could still feel the zombie’s grip on my ankle. The ghost of a vise, an all-too-present memory that refused to go away, no matter how much I blinked my eyes and willed something pleasant to take its place.
A shudder ran the full length of my body and, like a great, unceasing ocean wave, it kept trolling up and down me until every part of me was shaking. I’d kept control of myself for the most part—I mean, other than freaking out when that…that thing grabbed me. Rose had saved me though. I looked over at her, barely a woman by some standards, yet stronger and braver than most middle-aged people I’d met in my life. She was stronger than me, although I didn’t think she knew that.
Rose was standing next to Leon. She’d sat down when we’d first entered the sort of control room that housed about a million monitors, but that hadn’t lasted. It was as if the stillness after the storm wasn’t settling well with her; she was still too pumped up from fighting, maybe. Everyone was talking, wondering if that room was the smartest place to stay for the evening.
While all of the sane people were worried about being safe, all I could think about was that, when we did secure ourselves “wherever,” I was going to break open the bottle of tequila I’d taken from the restaurant. I needed something, anything, to block out the events of the day. I wanted the alcohol to make my vision fuzzy so I couldn’t see the blood on my clothes and the blood on my hands.
And more than anything, I needed to dull my senses so I could hide from myself. There was a growing fear in the pit of my stomach that something just wasn’t right with me.
I want to go back to the land of normalcy, where the worst thing I could expect on a typical day from a fellow human being was a bit of rudeness. I hugged myself tightly. No, there’s always been worse than that in the world, idiot. You just like to ignore reality.
I hung my head, giving myself over to the earthquakes dancing inside me. Goose pimples had sprouted along my skin, and the hair on my arms was standing straight up, still reacting to the adrenaline coursing through my body.
There had to be some point where you ran out of adrenaline, right? Your glands would just give up the good fight, shrug their shoulders, and go “sorry, babe. Time to flight and forget the fight.”
“You okay?” Alexa had come up to me.
“Yeah,” I murmured before lifting my head and seeing that Jamie was standing behind his daughter, his hand protectively on one of her shoulders.
“Alexa told me that you stuck with her, kept your head when those things were coming at you.” Jamie’s voice shook a little, like he was balancing on a needle point and it would only take the barest blow of wind to knock him down completely.
“We stuck together,” I said, and glanced at the girl, smiling. “She held her own. You should be proud.”
“I don’t want her fighting.” He shook his head, disappointment plain.
“I know, but she didn’t have a choice,” I said regretfully, “and she might have to fight again. This isn’t the kind of situation where someone just sits out the ugly and hopes to survive.” I reached out and squeezed Alexa’s hand.
“She’s just a kid!” he barked, pulling Alexa to him. “Do you get that? She’s just a kid.”
“I know, but this isn’t going to go away anytime soon,” I snapped back.
Alexa looked uncomfortably between me and her dad, not sure whose side she wanted to take. I decided to back down. She wasn’t my kid, and realistically no matter what I thought, I had no say in her life.
“Okay, I’m sorry, you’re right. She’s just a kid and she shouldn’t have to be involved in any of this.” I held my hands up in surrender. “I’ll try and keep her out of it from now on.”
“I think we’re going to stay here.” Nolan’s voice broke through our conversation, and I was grateful for the interruption. He and Trent were over by the door, pushing a desk against it although it was already locked. “We can see every part of the airport from here, and that’ll be important come morning when we want to make sure everything’s still clear.” He stood up straight, turning to survey the group before dragging his hand down his face, his gaze far away like he was deep in thought. “We’re going to need to take it in turns
to stay awake and keep watch too.”
“Morning’s not far behind though, right?” Trent asked, searching our faces.
“Couple of hours,” Jamie replied, checking his watch.
“Do we need anything else to stay here?” Rose took a step away from Leon. “There was a place with blankets and travel pillows not too far from here.”
Nolan nodded, still thinking. “It would make things more comfortable.” He looked over at Alexa and me, his brow furrowing. “Trent, help me move this again.”
The two men made short work of moving the desk back away.
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Nolan said, looking at Rose.
“She won’t be alone,” Leon and I said nearly in unison. We looked at each other, him cocking an eyebrow. I had the childish urge to assert that I saw Rose first, so I had seniority. I wasn’t a preteen fighting over my best friend though.
“I can go too.” It was Alexa this time.
“No, you’ve done enough,” Jamie chimed in, once again putting his hand on his daughter’s shoulder because she’d stepped away from him.
Alexa’s chin jutted out in defiance. “Dad, I can—”
“No, I’ll go help. You stay here and stay safe.” Jamie’s voice is firm, causing his daughter’s eyes to narrow in frustration.
“I can stay with you if you want, Alexa. I don’t mind.” I flicked a glance at Rose, who gave a quick nod to say that would be okay.
“No, go with them. I’ll just stay here like Rapunzel, locked in a tower until my dad decides I’m not a baby anymore.” The young girl’s frown deepened.
“Alexa, you know it’s not like that…” Jamie’s voice trailed off and he averted his gaze. Because, I had a feeling, he realized that it was exactly like that after all. And despite my earlier speech, I found that I did actually agree with him.
Alexa needed to know how to defend herself, for sure, but if we could keep her out of harm’s way completely, then even better.
“All right, let’s go and do this so we can all get some rest. I’m exhausted,” Leon said.
Red Eye | Season 1 | Episode 2 Page 7