Parasite ; Sleeper Cells ; Kingdoms of the Dead

by Ian Woodhead

  For some reason that he couldn’t fathom, Tony felt compelled to go down three floors and investigate that particular section. He saw no logical reason for doing so. His priority was to find weapons, not to gaze in incomprehension at a bunch of old experiments left rotting in some forgotten building. Despite this, he’d already made up his mind.

  He picked his way through the rubble, heading towards where the doorway once stood. Tony reached the stairway and shook the railings to check that they weren’t going to crumble. The metal didn’t budge. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to tumble down the middle of the stairway, he leaned over the edge to make sure that it would be safe enough to use this route.

  Apart from a chunk of masonry that must have fallen from above, he saw no sign of heavy damage. “Here we go then.” This place felt so familiar; there was something about the layout and, in particular, that old sign that jarred his memory. Tony tried to shake away the irrational feeling that he’d been here before. He knew he hadn’t. Hell, until The Rising, Tony had never even left his home town.

  He made his way down the stairway, keeping his ear open for any sound that he wasn’t alone. He still needed a weapon. There were plenty of stones lying about but nothing he could use. Tony felt vulnerable with his hands empty. Even a heavy stick would suffice for the moment.

  Before he reached the next level, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. No obvious sounds of company had reached his ears yet, but he knew without doubt that someone or something was just behind the next door, just waiting to whack him. He flattened his back against the wall and stared at the door. It was weird; apart from obvious signs of wear and tear, it looked almost new. How did that work? This whole building must have been open to the elements for years. By rights, that door shouldn’t have even been there. “Unless someone has maintained it,” he muttered. It was probably best that he abandon this stupid venture altogether. The heavy feeling in his guts had returned. The evidence pointed to another human settlement. They wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger poking his nose into their business.

  If he followed this path, Tony could very well end up losing his nose, as well as certain other parts of his anatomy. Not every person had surrendered when the invaders had come through. Some of the more resilient ones had hidden away in the forgotten cities, staying underground, only coming out at night to hunt for food. He’d heard the stories of other human settlements turning to cannibalism in order to survive. Tony picked up a fist-sized rock. He might be wrong about all of this. It was probable that his nerves were still shot. More than likely, Tony was alone in here. Even so, if he was right about someone else down here, he wasn’t going to let anyone put him in a cooking pot.

  The one lesson that he’d learned the hard way was to never dismiss his gut feelings; this sixth sense that set his hairs on end and shot a load of butterflies into his stomach had saved his skin on more than one occasion.

  If there was somebody behind the door, he would have to find some way to get past him. He looked behind him, back up the stairway. He’d always said there was a choice. Even if his instinct was so strong that it would be impossible to ignore, it, there should always be at least one alternative. His choice in this case was to run back up those stairs.

  Tony already knew where his destiny lay. He charged forwards and slammed his body against the door, not remotely surprised to find an obstacle on the other side.

  He pushed the door again and dived through the gap, listening to mumbled curses coming from a large man dressed in tattered military fatigues.

  The man reached for a baseball bat just by his hand. Tony saw the movement and kicked it out of his reach. He then viciously slammed his boot into the man’s face. There was no guilt; this guy would have done the same to him if the tables were turned. He preferred it to be the other guy on the floor, pouring blood out of his broken nose.

  Tony snatched up the bat. “Listen to me closely, friend. It would be in your best interest to stay on that floor. Now I know you must be really pissed because I messed up your nose.” Tony pushed the bat against the man’s forehead. “That’s mild compared to what I’ll do if you get any bright ideas. I hope you get my drift, buddy.”

  He received a glare nasty enough to freeze the blood, but the guy did give Tony a slight nod. He guessed he’d have to live with that. It did feel odd how he was getting colder though.

  “Just one more question, how many of you are down here?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” spat the man. “Don’t you know where you are? Just you wait until the others get here. They won’t need to use a scanner on you, buddy.”

  Tony backed away from the man, not taking his eyes off his smirking face. He had no idea what any of that meant, and yet … He shook his head, trying to clear away a dense fog that was threatening to take him back to somewhere else. “Fuck you,” he snarled.

  That door behind him looked so inviting. Maybe he ought to listen to his common sense and just get the hell out of here. None of this felt right at all. It would only take a few minutes to race up those stairs and get out of there.

  No, screw that idea, this mission needed to be seen out to the end. There was no backing out now. Tony gave those doors one last look before bolting down the darkened hallway. His common sense could go take a running jump. It didn’t matter if he was heading towards the center of an angry hornets’ nest; this was what his instinct was telling him to do.

  He shivered. That coldness flowing through his body was beginning to worry him now. It had to be in his mind, the effect of this building and that weird guard was obviously messing with his head. He gripped the bat tighter, promising himself that the next guard he met would get the bat wrapped around his head before the fucker could spout out any confusing nonsense. This part of the building was free of debris and clean. It almost felt as if the place had been resorted to its former glory. It was as if the decaying world above his head didn’t even exist. Tony ran his hand along the corridor wall, then inspected his fingers. These walls were definitely clean. Would a bunch of mad cannibals keep the place so tidy? Tony didn’t think so.

  It also suggested that they were just another small band of individuals, hiding out in this ruined city, keeping their heads and wanting to stay alive.

  “And you’ve just whacked their only lookout,” he muttered. “Good move, Tony. He’s probably the only safeguard they have from the real flesh eaters. Those dead things are probably on their way down here right now.”

  Tony stopped running as he reached a ‘T’ junction. Where did the sudden bout of guilt trips come from? He felt, just for a moment, like a completely different person. It was this place, it had to be. Something in this building was seriously fucking with his head. He just needed to find out what it was. Tony guessed that it must be in that room, why else was his instinct guiding him towards it? “Poor starving individuals?” Hell, the guy on the floor looked as though he’d only just finished off a three-course meal.

  He looked both ways down the corridor. Tony knew he needed to go left. That didn’t help either; how could he even know where he was supposed to go? These walls felt so familiar, as if he’d travelled down here many times. Before he turned, he heard something crash against the wall, back where he’d left that guy. It sounded like the man wasn’t going to take his advice after all.

  Tony sighed heavily when he heard the man’s voice and, to make it worse, the guy with the broken nose had company. Judging from the sudden blast of furious shouts, the guy wasn’t all that happy about Tony stealing his bat. They weren’t wasting time in coming after him either.

  “Just great,” he said, racing down the dimly lit hallway. His progress came to an abrupt stop when his ears detected another voice; this one was directly in front of him. Fuck, had they doubled back and cut him off? His blood chilled when that noise transformed into a low moan.

  His fingers tightened around the handle. The men behind him were temporarily forgotten as he focused on the sound of that
moaning, trying to find out exactly where it was coming from. He tuned out the shouts, hearing the clacking of teeth. Was it just one or two of them? It didn’t matter, Tony knew where it was coming from now. Judging from the long shadow growing from around the corner, there was just the one.

  The muttered tones of his pursuers had now turned to shock and fear. Tony nodded to himself, guessing that there was more than just one zombie down here with them. Still, he was confident that they’d be able to deal with it. Nobody in this terrible world could last long without knowing how to put down the dead things.

  He lifted his bat and ran towards the shadow. The cloying stench of bad meat, coupled with their unique chemical taint, confirmed what he already knew. Tony swung the bat hard, feeling the thick wood connect with the side of its head. The impact reverberated through his arms and into his shoulders. The dead thing slammed into the ground. This time it wasn’t ever going to get back up.

  Tony stood over it, panting heavily. He looked at the dark blood staining the end of the bat. None of this made any sense. There shouldn’t have been so much blood. Just by looking at it, he knew that this zombie had been in this state for years. Its liquids would have turned to stinking black sludge years ago. This one was freshly turned.

  The paradox shifted up another gear when Tony heard the sound of the other zombie closing in. So much for back up. They all must have turned tail and ran. He spun around and saw the dead thing shambling towards him. His mind threatened to give out. It was another white-haired guy. It looked just like the one on the floor behind him. Tony growled. “Who the fuck is messing with my brain?” he shouted. The thing lifted its arms. Tony ducked under them and shoved the end of the bat up, connecting with the bottom of its jaw. It flung its head back and slammed into the wall behind it. Tony stood up, raised the bat above his head, and slammed it into the top of the zombie’s head.

  “Fuck you!” he snarled.

  He gave the two fallen things one more glance before continuing down the hallway, hoping that behind the door of his destination lay the answers to every one of the mental fuck ups that now plagued him. He cast aside every other nagging doubt, even ignoring the horrible feeling of his body temperature cooling, and put on an extra burst of speed.

  As he skidded around the corner, another dead thing blocked his path. He stopped and stared, feeling his mental gears shift again at the sight of its long white hair trailing over its shoulder. Tony blinked, not knowing why the sight of this individual sent his heart fluttering. It was only one more zombie.

  The thing had sensed Tony and had its jaw already open, no doubt anticipating a mouthful of his warm flesh. “Fuck you as well,” he hissed, pushing the bat savagely forward. The end broke most of the thing’s front teeth. He reversed the bat and cracked it against the back of the zombie’s head as he ran past. Right now, Tony could not even be bothered to stop to see if his attack had finished it off. Not now, that door was just around the next bend. Tony needed to get there.

  He saw his target directly ahead as he turned the corner. It was just an ordinary wooden door, with a small brass plaque positioned at eye height. With his heart beating like an Olympic sprinter, he approached the door, keeping a firm grip on his improvised weapon. He reached for the handle, twisted the metal down and pushed, watching the door swing open.

  The interior revealed itself. It was nothing like what he was expecting. Tony gazed around the room, taking in the walls covered in posters of unfamiliar movies, the luxurious soft furnishing, and the weirdest thing of all, the huge table dominating the room covered in Legos.

  “Where the fuck did you come from?”

  He spun around and caught sight of a man in his mid-30’s. Tony didn’t have a clue who he was, and yet he did. This guy was called Joseph. His overloaded brain tilted again. He didn’t even have time to react to the man’s sudden lunge. Tony gazed down in confusion, watching a syringe fall to the floor. Tony knew he was about to follow it. He spun his head, and looked into the room one more time. Before his eyes closed, he noticed one more oddity. There was a pair of teenage lads sitting in the corner; they were both wearing what looked like black, bicycle safety helmets.

  Chapter Seven

  The casing from the shotgun clattered across the wet asphalt before disappearing down a drain. He looked into his brother’s shining eyes and laughed. “Come on, admit it, Daniel, this is way better than playing with all those Legos!”

  The light in his brother’s eyes died like a broken flashlight. Mortimer had put his foot right in it again.

  “You’re just like all the others at the camp!” he hissed. “You’re just like Martin.”

  Mortimer’s eyes stayed fixed on his brother’s crossbow, watching it rise higher and higher. “Enough of the pity me act, Daniel.” He leaned closer to him. “Listen to me.” He pushed the crossbow down to face the ground. He had no wish to receive a bolt in his flesh, either by accident or on purpose. “Did you honestly think that I brought you out here to humiliate you? I’m the only one who’s ever stuck up for you. Even when Martin tried to beat you up, it was always me who jumped between the pair of you.”

  Mortimer grabbed his brother’s wrist and jerked him forward. “Look at that,” he hissed, pointing at the fallen zombie. “I know you think that everyone is out to get you, Daniel, but you don’t exactly do yourself any favor by shunning the others. That is your enemy. That thing is definitely out to get you. It would have done anything to clamp its teeth around your flesh. As for the others at the camp?” He snorted. “They’re too busy trying to stay alive, nobody hates you.”

  “No, you’re wrong,” said Daniel, violently shaking his head. “You don’t know what they’re like to me when you’re not around. They all hate me, and Martin is the worse one of them all. I wish he was dead.”

  Why was he even bothering? Mortimer turned around and stormed off. Fuck him. He was tired of all of this shit. This conversation had been played out countless times already. Hell, even back before the invaders had brought the plague, the fireworks had always been flying between the three of them. He should have left Daniel with his stupid bricks. He was never going to change his tune. Daniel was his own worst enemy.

  “Wait up, Mortimer!”

  He tensed, expecting to feel the thud of a crossbow bolt thudding into his back at any second. Mortimer spun around, both his hands gripping his shotgun very tight. Daniel was running right for him, but instead of the enraged face of fury, he only saw a great big soft lump of a man who looked about as dangerous as a frightened puppy. His crossbow dangled by his hand like a forgotten glove. Mortimer relaxed his grip and took his finger off the trigger. It looked as though his brother wasn’t the only one with trust issues.

  “I’m sorry,” said Daniel. “I didn’t mean to fly off at the handle like that. It’s just that back at the camp, the insults always start off with some innocent-sounding jibe and it inevitably snowballs out of control.”

  “Forget about it, Daniel. Come on, we should keep moving. To be honest with you, I shouldn’t have fired off that shot. It would have been better for both of us if I’d let you shoot it or whack it with the gun butt. The noise will travel for miles. I daren’t think how many of those things will be hiding in the city.”

  His brother nodded, his head moving up and down with every snippet of info that Mortimer uttered. Daniel didn’t have a clue about how to survive out in the open. Even the most basic of survival tips had flown straight over his brother’s head. All Daniel seemed to care about was his dumb models.

  “It doesn’t look like there’s that many of them about, Mortimer. I can’t hear any footsteps. I thought they moaned a lot when they were close to you?” Daniel looked back at the one that Mortimer had shot. “Maybe that’s the only one around here? I mean, why would they bother to stick around when there’s obviously nobody about?” Daniel wandered over to an abandoned car. “You know something?” He turned around. “I feel as if I know this street. How can that be? I’ve never been
here in my life, and yet …” He walked past the car and onto the sidewalk. “How is it that I know that there’s a huge toyshop just around the corner?”

  Mortimer knew exactly what he meant, but he would have preferred not to hear his brother voicing the same thoughts that had plagued him ever since he’d started to visit the city. “I have no idea,” he lied. “To be honest, the only reason why we’re here at all is because I’m just following a standard search pattern. I’ve already checked out the other areas and found nothing of value.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing special about this place.” He had no intention of telling Daniel that he’d been drawn to this part of the town ever since coming to the city. The pull had always been there, only this time, in the company of his brother, there was no way he could resist its attraction, no matter how hard he tried.

  “Bullshit.” Daniel started to walk past the abandoned shops. “I know that there’s a toyshop in the next street. I’ll prove it to you.”

  Oh Jesus, their mom had raised a complete idiot! Daniel casually walked along that street without a care in the world, still holding the crossbow by the strap. He wouldn’t stand a chance if any of those things were inside any of those shops. Mortimer ran after him, looking out for anything other than Daniel moving about.

  His worst fears solidified. Over a dozen shadows began to move in the grocery store that Daniel had just walked past. “Get your ass back here!” yelled Mortimer. There was little point in stealth at this point. The bastards had already sensed Daniel. He raced over, watching the shadows move towards the broken shop windows. “For crying out loud, Daniel, get the fuck over here! They’re coming after you.”