When There's No More Room in Hell 2

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When There's No More Room in Hell 2 Page 30

by Luke Duffy


  He swung the pole again, aiming it to whack the figure on the side of its head. The dead man swayed and ducked his head, the pole sailing harmlessly above him.

  "Fuck, did you see that?" Robbie exclaimed.

  Tobias nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the defiant corpse standing on the bed of the truck. "Yeah, I saw it," he replied slowly with a nod.

  He had never seen one of the reanimated bodies behave in such a way. For one of them to be in such close proximity to the living without being excited to the point of smashing itself to pieces to get at them, was completely unheard of. He had seen thousands, millions of them and they all reacted in the same way when they saw warm living flesh. But the one that stood on the back of the truck, eyeing them with what he could only describe as a degree of intelligence, was an exception to the rule.

  "Come on, dickhead," Robbie taunted as he began jabbing the creature again. "Get in the cage with the rest of your friends. There's a good lad."

  "Hang on, Robbie. Leave him be a moment," Tobias ordered, raising his hand as he stared down at the body that stood its ground. He squatted down on top of the cage, lowering his profile to a less threatening stance. The creature followed him with its unblinking eyes, its body turning slightly so that it remained facing him, but angled ready to defend itself.

  Tobias was at the very edge of the cage, the toes of his boots just inches away from the frame and easily within reach if the reanimated corpse was to lunge at him. Their eyes remained locked as they scrutinized one another. There was nothing in the dead man's mannerisms that indicated to Tobias that he wanted to attack, or hurt him in any way.

  "Careful, boss," Robbie called from the roof of the cab.

  The corpse turned to glance back at the man wielding the pole. He eyed the long staff that he held in his hand then looked to the sides of the truck, as though contemplating making a run for it.

  "It's okay, Robbie. If it wanted me, it would've tried it by now. Look at it; have you ever seen one like this?"

  Robbie raised the pole and grunted, "They all look the frigging same to me, Toby. You're not after making it your pet are you?"

  The head of the creature slowly rotated as it examined the frame of the cage and the five other clambering corpses that hammered against the tailgate and rattled at the steel bars of the enclosure. It looked back up at the man crouching above him.

  Tobias felt a cold hand run down between his shoulders and along his spine. What he saw in the creature's eyes was hatred and revulsion. He clearly saw that unmistakable emotion etched across its face and it was not aimed at him. It was revulsion for the other corpses that were clambering at the cage below.

  It glanced back at Robbie and then back to Tobias. It remained defiant but it realised that it had no way of escape. It took a small step closer to the cage, its eyes narrowing as it peered into the darkness of the enclosure. It glanced back up at Tobias, and then taking another careful step towards the makeshift cell, it reached out and gripped the frame of the door. It kept its eyes locked on Tobias as it moved and began to lower itself to a crouch, holding on to the sides of the truck and gently easing itself into the enclosure.

  The soldier at the side of the cage forced the door shut, its frame rattled and banged loudly in the garage as it sealed the entrance, trapping the six dead inside.

  Tobias stepped down on to the truck and squatted, peering into the gloomy cage and watching the corpses as they hurled themselves at him, thrusting their hands through the bars and clutching their fingers in an effort to grab hold of him.

  He looked past them; the dead that clambered at the front of the cage held no interest for him, but the dark figure at the rear of the cell, standing alone in the corner and staring back at him, did.

  24

  "They left us," Helen screamed as she was dragged through the aisles by Steve.

  She could feel his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, his grip almost cutting off the circulation of her blood to her fingers.

  Steve's feet pounded on the linoleum floor as he raced towards the double doors that led to the storage area of the supermarket. The dead moaned in unison behind them as they staggered after them. Their lament echoed throughout the store, bouncing along the narrow aisles. Their footsteps skidded and scraped along the ground, shelving and displays being toppled as they crashed into them in their haste as they saw the energetic movements of the escaping couple.

  "They had to, they had to leave us."

  Steve gripped Helen's hand tighter as he dragged her along behind him. He was just metres away from the large double doors at the end of the aisle now, his stride already shortening as he braced himself, ready to launch his shoulder against them.

  The doors flew open with a crash as they rebounded off the wall of the dark staircase. The noise bounced from one wall to the next as it travelled upwards into the gloom. Steve paused for just a moment, creeping forward as he peered up the steps, squinting through the darkness and double-checking that there was nothing waiting for them at the top before they began their ascent.

  "Okay, we're clear," he said as he turned to Helen.

  She was standing on her tiptoes, peering through the small glass windows set two thirds of the way up in the large heavy double doors. The supermarket was already overflowing with the dead. Hundreds of them poured in through the gaping hole in the window. They slowly made their way along the aisles, reaching out and groaning as they headed towards the doors that they had watched their prey escape through.

  Helen turned to Steve as she felt him tug on her arm again. "Where are we going? There are still hundreds of them out back, isn't there?"

  Steve was climbing the stairs, two at a time, as he led her by the hand, keeping her behind him in case anything sprang up in front of them.

  "We have no choice. We can't stay here and that’s the only other way out that I know of," he gasped between breaths.

  His heart was pounding and his chest heaved with the sudden strain and exertion. He poured with sweat and the adrenalin and fear coursed through his veins like fire.

  "Hopefully, the ones at the back of the building will have heard the commotion at the front and followed it."

  They rounded the first flight of stairs and began to climb the next. They could see the sunlit doorway above them that led to the corridor containing the offices and then out onto the steel walkway above the loading bay.

  There was a sudden crash below them. Steve stopped just long enough to lean over the handrail and see the dead that spilled into the stairwell. Their moans and footsteps crept up towards them, sending shivers down the spines of Steve and Helen as they felt the icy cold hand of terror grip them. They were packed in, shoulder to shoulder, and Steve watched as countless heads, some almost bare skull and others, their hair matted and filled with filth and grime, began to clamber up the steps.

  "Come on, faster Helen, they're in," he gasped.

  They cleared the last step and sprinted through the doorway of the office corridor as the haunting sound of the dead chased them up the stairwell, snapping at their heels. The pair of them raced towards the bright sunlight at the far end.

  Steve skidded to a halt as he reached the exit at the end that led on to the steel balcony. He quickly glanced back, checking that they were still alone in the corridor and that none of the creatures chasing them had yet made it up the two flights of stairs. He could hear them, tramping on the stairs as their heavy clumsy feet powered them upwards, but there was still no sign of them.

  Helen gingerly stepped forward, creeping towards the railing of the walkway, her light steps making an almost inaudible clunk on the steel grate, but it was loud enough for the sea of dead faces below to hear.

  Their heads shot upward, their flat lifeless eyes locking on Helen and Steve and their wails rising as they saw the two people at the doorway above them. The crowd surged and swayed, tussling and pushing at one another as they struggled for position, their arms flailing in the air above them.

 
; "Shit," Steve growled. "We're stuck. There's too many of them."

  Helen looked back along the corridor then stepped forward onto the balcony, leaning over to get a view of the entire loading bay, searching for somewhere they could climb down and remain out of reach from the hungry pack.

  The dead below her screamed and wailed, anticipating tearing into her flesh as she leaned out, just out of reach above them. She pulled back and began eyeing the roof and the ledge, then ran along the edge of it as it formed an overhanging sheltered outcrop above the loading area.

  Steve had taken a few steps back into the dimly lit corridor. He pulled at one of the handles of the office doors, checking to see whether it was locked. The handle turned and the door swung open with a creak. The air rushed in and mixed with the stale atmosphere within the room, causing particles of dust to fly up to the shaft of light pouring in through the open doorway and loose papers blow from the desk. The sunlight from outside in the loading bay penetrated the room, revealing a small cubicle enclosure containing just a computer desk and a couple of office chairs.

  "We could hide in here," he whispered back to Helen as though he did not want the dead to hear his plan.

  Helen turned to look back in the corridor, seeing Steve standing by the open door to the small room staring back at her. She shook her head dismissively. The very thought of hiding and waiting to be discovered terrified her more than running in the open with the things chasing her.

  "No, Steve, they’ll find us and we will have nowhere to go."

  Steve stepped away from the small office and out onto the steel walkway. The echoing sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs marked the arrival of the dead in the corridor. In the gloom, the dark bobbing mass of silhouetted, growling creatures slowly advanced on the brightly lit doorway, towards them.

  Helen reached out, grasping the thick steel vertical beams that supported the balcony and stretched all the way up to the rooftop.

  "Come on, Steve, we're going up."

  Reaching her hands high and gripping the support beam, she heaved herself up and climbed onto the rail of the steel walkway, her hands tightly clutched around the girder. She bent her legs slightly and pushed off the railing with her feet, shimmying up the thick steel shaft. With all the strength she could muster, she pulled herself upward, thrusting one hand over the other as she quickly gained height away from the walkway and Steve.

  "Come on then, what are you waiting for?" she grunted with the effort.

  Steve watched her as she began her ascent. Regardless of the situation they were in, he was impressed. Though he was no male chauvinist, he had seldom seen a woman with such upper body strength and able to power up an obstacle with such ease on the first attempt. He doubted that most men could even do it and he wondered if he could manage it himself. Helen was only a slight woman. Her body, though perfectly formed and toned, did not appear to have that kind of power, but the headway that she was making up the support beam told him that Helen was far from being a weakling.

  He hurled himself forward at the railing, reaching out at the same time and grasping the beam, just below Helen's feet. He glanced back down at the faces that stared up at him as they swarmed around the loading area directly below him. He looked back along the corridor, into the gloom. Dozens of figures loomed out from the darkness, their grey faces devoid of all life and their thrashing arms closing on him fast. They bounced from wall to wall, their rotting bodies leaving long black smears on the white paint.

  As Helen had done, he pushed himself upward from the railing, giving himself a metre's start on the beam. He grunted and gasped with each heave as he thrust hand over hand, pulling himself upward.

  Helen was already at the lip to the roof of the building. She threw her arms over on to the asphalt, gripping the ledge between her elbows and chest and forcing her shoulders upward. She took in a deep breath and rocked her legs from side to side as she built up the momentum for the final leap. With a cry, she threw her legs out to the side of her, the toes of her right foot making contact with the ledge of the roof and gripping it as she began to heave herself up to safety. She pushed herself onto the rooftop, rolling away from the edge and gasping with relief as she lay staring up to the cloudy sky.

  Steve was half of the way up, the dead now hammering against the beam below him as they spilled out from the corridor and onto the steel walkway. Their clumsy footsteps clattered against the grating of the balcony and echoed around in the loading bay, joining the crescendo of cries and moans from the dead below.

  More of them spewed out from the building and onto the rickety balcony that shook and trembled beneath their combined weight. Steve felt the vibrations travelling up the beam and into his arms. He could hear the creaks and groans of the fixtures as they strained to bear the mass of bodies that threatened to collapse the entire structure. Brackets began to separate from the wall as the rusted bolts became loose in the crumbling cement that held them in place. Steve watched in horror as the support beam that he climbed suddenly jutted out from the wall of the building.

  He felt the steel support that his body was wrapped around judder and rock as the dead that were just below him pulled and heaved at it, pushing it away from the wall just a little further with each thrust. He reached another hand upwards, wrapping it around the beam and heaving himself a little further as he attempted to escape the gaping maws of the creatures that lingered just inches below the soles of his feet.

  More bodies piled out from the door and onto the walkway. The balcony was now so packed that the weight of the dead that were still in the corridor, pushing forward as they attempted to reach the open doorway, caused some of the creatures to topple over the railing. They landed on the heads of the others below in the loading bay. They were carried off like rock stars that were stage diving, as grasping hands pushed and pulled them aside.

  The material of Steve's jacket slipped against the smooth metal of the column to which he clung. His hands grasped tighter around the beam as his body began to slide downwards. He kicked and thrashed with his legs in desperation, hoping they would grip the slippery steel beam. He felt his shin hit the hard metal, the pain shooting up along his nervous system and screaming inside his brain.

  His fingers were losing their grip. Their knuckles and tips were white where they pressed against the support beam and the blood was forced out from them as his grasp slowly weakened. His eyes were shut tight as he grimaced and groaned in an attempt to muster the strength to lunge upward and gain a better hold.

  His grip was weakening and his body was slowly beginning to slide downwards, towards the waiting corpses below him.

  Helen reached over from the roof, leaning as far forward as she dared, she stretched out to Steve, her fingertips brushing against the collar of his jacket. She leaned further, glancing back and checking the position of her feet as she grunted from the strain. She felt the material curl under the joints of her fingers as she closed them tightly together. With all her strength, she began to heave.

  Steve felt the sudden lift as Helen clutched at his jacket. It was enough for Steve to risk a fresh leap at the beam above him. With a huge effort, he shot upward, his hands clapping against the cold metal of the strut. With Helen's help, he shimmied upward and towards the ledge.

  As Steve reached the top, Helen gripped him by the shoulders while he threw his legs up on to the lip of the roof. She yanked him backward, a loud grunt escaping from her throat with the strain as Steve tumbled forward on to the roof, collapsing on top of her. They both lay there, entangled with each other, panting for breath as the frustrated reanimated bodies below them continued to pound against the steel column.

  "Fucking hell," Steve gasped. "Thanks, Helen."

  The sound of crunching metal emitting from the loading bay below them forced Steve and Helen to their feet. They crept towards the edge of the roof, fearful of getting too close, and peered over just as the crowded walkway began to collapse.

  The steel hinges were ripp
ed from the wall as they became weakened from the weight of the dead on the balcony. Slowly, it tilted outward over the loading bay; the creatures that packed it toppling over the railing as the entire structure crashed onto the heads of the dead below, crushing countless skulls in the process.

  More were scattered backwards as they were hit by the heavy steel grates and beams. Bones were smashed, limbs were torn from their sockets and flesh was ripped open, spilling strings of intestines and internal organs at their feet. The crippled bodies sloshed about in the quagmire while the remainder of the crowd surged forward again, trampling them into the foul grotesque swamp of human remains and bodily fluids beneath their feet.

  "Bollocks to this," Steve growled as he began tearing at the jacket that he wore. "This fucking thing has done nothing but cause me dramas. First the beer cans, then the fireman's pole routine with those things snapping at my arse."

  He pulled the jacket from his shoulders and began waving it around his head like a lasso.

  "Here you are. You can have it," he shouted as he let go. It sailed in the air and fluttered down to land on the heads of the dead.

  "What do we do now?" Helen asked as she watched the carnage in the loading bay.

  "Find a way off this roof for a start," Steve replied as he began looking around him for a possible way down.

  "And then?"

  Steve turned to her and shrugged. He leaned forward and peered back down at the dead in the loading bay.

  "We find a car that still works and get back to the park. I know it sounds a lot easier said than done, but that's what we need to do."

  "Well," Helen glanced to the far side of the rooftop, "the cars out front are out of the question, there are a thousand of those things down there."

  They both began to walk the length of the roof, searching for an escape route. At the far left hand side of the building, a drainage pipe ran down from the roof and into the grid at the base of the wall. The area below was clear of the dead. A couple of large, steel bins were all that was in the small alleyway that ran along the side of the building. It was quiet and would allow them to be able to climb down, undetected.

 

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