Eddie ignored her and climbed through the gap he had created. It was like stepping into a black hole. He eased himself down gently allowing his foot to feel for the strength of the wooden beams. Finding the nearest one he stepped into the void. He turned and instructed Laura to hand him the bag. She shot him a glance in the darkness but reached for it anyway, it was heavy. He took the bag from her and hooked it onto his shoulders. She slipped through the hole and sat on the remaining wall.
‘Can you help me down…please,’ she asked. Not wanting a repeat performance with the ceiling, he assisted her with finding her footing. ‘Spark the lighter up,’ she said.
‘It must have fallen out my pocket while you were playing footsie with your boyfriend,’ he said sarcastically.
‘Did you not think to put a torch in your bag,’ she said with equal sarcasm.
She hadn’t heard him stop nor sensed it, but she felt it when she bumped into him. Any thoughts she had that he was annoyed disappeared when she heard the movement below them.
*
They stood motionless as they listened to the shuffling and scratching about underneath them. The setup of his neighbour’s house was different to his own. The entrance to the attic was situated in a bedroom and that was probably the neighbour’s son now dead and stumbling about.
‘What are we going to do, we can’t stay up here for ever,’ said Laura.
‘Tell me something I don’t know and for fucks sake keep your voice down,’ he whispered.
Laura was glad she could barely see in the darkness; she imagined a scowl across Eddie’s face. ‘What do you think it is?’ she asked.
‘It’s probably the neighbour’s spotty teenager, he’s rake thin – a strong wind would snap him in two. He shouldn’t be too much of a problem.’
‘Does he have his own teeth,’ she asked.
‘Point taken,’ he replied. ‘You go first.’ He smiled in the darkness.
‘Fuck off,’ she replied.
‘Do you think you could launch your fat arse through this ceiling as a distraction while I jump down and smash his skull in,’ he was still smiling.
‘Lift the hatch and stick your cock through, the strain on his eyes may cause a haemorrhage.’ Eddie almost lost his balance.
‘You’ve got a smart mouth,’ he hissed.
‘Yeah I have, now let’s stop trading insults and figure a way to get out of this fucking place.’
‘Any suggestions,’ he asked.
‘We can start by taking a look at what we are dealing with,’ she said.
Eddie lowered himself to the ground and carefully lifted the hatch. He could see the spotty teenager, well what was left of him. He lay scattered across his bed, one side of his face eaten to the bone. A huge hole in the same side of his head which explained why he wasn’t moving about. His torso had been ripped open from throat to navel and the remains of his intestines had spilled across the floor. His once blue jeans had been soaked in crimson. His bedding had done a good job of soaking up his blood and the jeans he wore had caught the contents of his bowels. The smell caught in Eddie’s nose and violated the back of his throat. The combination of blood, raw meat and shite almost caused him to add vomit to the mix. He replaced the lid and sat up.
‘How bad,’ asked Laura.
Eddie had seen some bad things in his life, most of them in the last few hours but the destruction in the bedroom was by far the worst.
‘It’s not the kid who is walking about, he is done for.’ Eddie was still clearing the bile from his throat. ‘It looks like his father had turned then made a meal of him. It’s him that is the problem, he is more or less directly below us.’
‘Fuck,’ said Laura. ‘We do need a distraction.’
‘That’s not our only problem, he is next to the door so when I jump down to finish him, I will be exposed to whatever is behind the door. I’ll make some noise jumping down and there will be a scuffle, if there are any more in the house we’ll be fucked,’ he said.
Laura didn’t like the idea of being stuck in an attic between dead Ritchie and dead Eddie, it was only just bearable with the living ones. ‘Let’s make some noise then, see what we can flush out, she said.
Eddie liked the idea. ‘Here’s the plan,’ he said. ‘I’ll smash a hole through the ceiling in the opposite corner of the room. When daddy dead comes over you keep him distracted, I’ll wait a minute to see if anything else walks through the door, if not I’ll jump down and cave his skull in.’
‘Ok, good plan. What are you going to use to make a hole? Eddie was already pulling a hammer out of his bag. He moved cautiously along the beams, not wanting to be the cause of the hole, he wasn’t sure if Laura would be able or want to pull him back up.
Eddie peeled back the insulation, coughing as the dust particles entered his airway. He slammed the hammer several times into the wooden slats. The dead creature looked towards the destruction. He made a whole big enough for Laura to poke her head through and entice him over. The plan worked as the creature reached out and made its way towards her. Eddie snaked back towards the entrance; he lifted the cover gently, not wanting the dead creature back under him. He watched the door, nothing.
He knew this would have to be fast, the dead creature would get bored of trying to reach Laura once Eddie was at ground level. He moved the cover completely and had one final look. Laura reached through an arm as further incentive for the corpse to remain motivated. Eddie shoved the hammer into his waist band, placed both his hands on the side of the hole and in a flowing motion lowered himself down and let go. His left foot landed firmly, his right foot hit something soft and moist. He lost his footing and fell backwards against the door, banging his head with a thud. He went dizzy and lost his focus. The dead creature turned towards him despite Laura’s best efforts to keep him distracted. Laura screamed at Eddie to get up, the dead from the other house began to moan at her voice.
Eddie was coming around as the dead father descended upon him. He wasn’t able to get up and out of the way, but he was able to brace himself for impact. The dead creature fell on him, almost winding him. He had allowed the creature to fall directly on top of him so he could trap its arms under his. He was then able to grab the creature’s hair, forcing its head back and putting his other hand under its chin. He couldn’t reach the hammer. The creature’s mouth was inches from Eddie’s face. Its putrid breath was as offensive as the rest of the odours in the room. It snapped its teeth at him.
Eddie tried to remain calm, the thud on the other side of the door put paid to that. He almost convinced himself he was done for until he saw Laura’s body come through the attic entrance. She landed beside them.
‘The hammer,’ he said, twisting to his side.
She bent over and reached for it, the dead creature turned towards her causing her to jerk back. Eddie pulled the head further back allowing her another attempt. This time she was quicker and grabbed the hammer before the creature could move. Eddie pushed the head further from him as she brought down the hammer with force once, twice three times – the final blow catching Eddie on his little finger, it was his turn to scream. Laura kept her pleasure internal.
‘My fucking finger,’ he cursed.
‘Stop complaining, you still have your face.’
Eddie ceased complaining, he was still stretched out on the floor and Laura was standing over him with a hammer dripping in blood and brain matter. He was hoping she had finished with the skull breaking for the time being. The thudding from the other side of the door was louder and more frequent now.
Laura knew from the rhythm that there was only one of the dead on the other side. ‘Move,’ she ordered Eddie. He threw the dead body off him and crawled out of the way. Laura flung open the door to see a pathetic looking creature that was once a woman. The dead woman was taken by surprise, she was hit in the head repeatedly before she could react.
Laura turned to Eddie, ‘I’m keeping this,’ she said referring to the hammer.
‘Fine by me,’ said E
ddie. He wasn’t sure if Laura had lost her mind, but she certainly looked like she had given up taking shit.
‘I’m fucking starved,’ she said. ‘I’m going to the kitchen to see what these rednecks ate before they became cannibals.’
Eddie pulled himself to his feet, wiping bone, blood and grey matter from his face and clothing. He was surrounded by destruction; crumpled bodies lay splattered around his feet. He looked towards the attic entrance knowing he needed to retrieve his bag. He was going to check the house first, ensuring it was secure. He was also going to look for a weapon not just to fight the dead but as protection against Laura. He could hear her downstairs; she hadn’t bothered to check the house for anymore of the dead but he was certain they would know about it if there was.
He guided himself through gore, stepping over the bodies of his dead neighbours. He picked up the dead woman and tossed her inside the room with the rest of her family, he closed the door on their tomb. He checked in all the upstairs rooms for a weapon without success. He descended the stairs. Laura sat in the kitchen stuffing fruit into her face. She had cleaned herself up and looked less menacing. The hammer was resting on the table within arm’s reach. She didn’t look at him.
Eddie moved into the main living room avoiding the scattered furniture as he made his way to the window. The curtains were closed. He opened a corner and peered out. The dead were everywhere. He could not see an escape route in any direction. He closed the curtain and turned. He hadn’t heard Laura come in and the sight of her standing behind him with her hammer caused his neck hair to prick.
‘Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,’ he said.
‘Not nice is it,’ she replied.
He ignored her, ‘It’s not looking good out there.’
‘It’s not great in here,’ she replied. ‘There is food in the kitchen, get something to eat while we decide how we get out of this shithole.’
Eddie nodded his agreement, Laura seemed to be more relaxed. He believed he was back in control. He sat down at the table, taking an orange from a bowl. He noticed two blades were missing from the knife block a split second before he felt the tip of one press firmly into his neck, the orange slipped from his grasp and rolled across the floor. Laura placed her foot across the fruit and squeezed out its life.
Chapter Forty-Six
Somewhere, North, UK.
Miles had been very persuasive towards Dr Martin and had a verbal confession blubbering from the lips of a man who had once been a predator to the vulnerable. Miles didn’t feel a sense of achievement, he knew the doctor was guilty. He wanted the man broken and to admit his deeds to himself, he had succeeded at both.
Miles pulled a seat in front of the trembling doctor. Initially the doctor had struggled to remember Miles, such was the extent of his abuse of power across a wide geographical area. Perhaps he had chosen to forget, Miles was meticulous at helping the pathetic doctor’s memory recall. Watching his fingers snap off and fly into the air was enough incentive for his long-term neurons to fire up.
Miles remembered every detail like it happened that morning, so when Dr Martin fabricated the facts purely through lack of recollection Miles plunged the scissors into his thigh inches from the groin. Miles conceded that the doctor wouldn’t remember every detail but he also warned him not to blur the lines between his own experiences and his other victims. With each description of his abuse he apologised, Miles slapped him hard with each apology, the doctor gave up before he did. Miles wasn’t looking for the sympathy of his abuser, he was exerting his power and inflicting pain.
Miles had anticipated this day for a long time, he could never have expected the circumstances developing around him. He had expected to maim and kill the doctor in a short space of time, the uninterrupted time he had to explore the doctor’s fear had been a bonus. He fully expected to have been knocked unconscious and strapped up by now. The situation outside the room now presented an opportunity for Miles to vacate the hospital.
‘Ok, doc one more question and we are done,’ the doctor nodded a weary head. ‘Where do you really keep your keys?’
‘My…my jacket,’ he whimpered.
Miles searched the pockets; he found the keys and the doctor’s wallet. He had no interest in the money or credit cards but something else caught his attention. A picture of a woman and a boy aged about nine, the doctor stood behind the boy with his hand draped across his shoulder. The picture should have looked like a normal family picture but the boy’s expression, his forced smile told Miles otherwise. The boy’s eyes looked towards the hand and Miles recognised the fear. He also detected no maternal body language from the mother towards the boy. Miles soaked up the image and allowed the internal rage to surface. He turned towards the doctor who saw the fire in his eyes – he didn’t like what he saw.
‘Who is this,’ said Miles as he pushed the picture in his face.
‘It’s my wife and son.’
‘Your biological son.’
‘What?’
Miles twisted the scissors still embedded in the doctor’s thigh. The pain initiated an instant response. ‘No, we adopted, my wife cannot conceive.’
The pain of having the scissors stuck in his leg was nothing compared to the hurt he felt when Miles removed them with force. He stabbed the scissors towards the doctor’s neck, stopping just as they broke the skin. A trickle of blood escaped and streamed down the frightened doctor’s chest.
‘Does your wife know what you’re doing to this kid?’
‘I’m not doing anythi…’ Miles stuck the scissors in a bit deeper. ‘She helps to comfort him afterwards.’
Miles fought the urge to ram the scissors further. ‘Society had the nerve to call me a monster while people like you are placed in positions of power. Power that you abuse and inflict pain on the weak. You know this is the end of the road for you but it isn’t going to end the way you expected.’
Miles took the picture from the wallet and stuffed it into his pocket. He also took his driver’s licence and sat at the doctor’s computer. He typed in his address, four miles from the hospital. He checked the keys, a Mercedes emblem dangled. He checked the news on the internet, it wasn’t good. The dead were eating the living all over the country. The military had been moved in once the police forces had succumbed to the hordes. Many news stations had gone off air, the ones that remained spoke of hope and the continued commitment of the government to restore order.
Miles looked out the window as more of the living were hunted and taken down by the dead. The order of the hospital had gone as patients and medical staff fought side by side – both dead and soon to be dead. He watched as a patient made a break for the fence, he almost got over unharmed before a dead creature took a bite from his right calf. The patient let out a scream before kicking the dead creature in the nose, he continued over the fence and limped away. Another patient fell under a wave of bloodied nurses and patients alike. He noticed that the patient had died from multiple bites and blood loss. The educational part for him was when another living person darted past, they chased and left the partly consumed victim. Within minutes the victim rose up and became part of the hunt. Miles deliberated for a moment and concluded that the creatures didn’t harm the nervous system of their victim which meant their brain was still intact. He couldn’t explain the lack of blood or oxygen to the brain, but it seemed a good place to try and incapacitate them.
He looked around the office for some sort of weapon. Lots of books and folders, nothing to stop an army of hungry dead. He checked the closet, jackpot. Inside the closet he found a collection of expensive golf clubs, he quickly snapped the heads off two turning them into stabbing weapons. Locked in a case was an arm baton for emergency use. Miles wondered how many times it had been used in non-emergencies. He took the baton and sticks and laid them on the desk.
Dr Martin was still strapped into the chair helpless and terrified. He had lost control of both his bladder and bowel. His fashionable sand trousers had darkened, and
the smell was revolting. His eyes flickered fast as his fear gripped him further. Whatever was going to happen to him was coming.
Miles moved towards the door and inserted the key; he could hear orders being shouted followed by screams. He knew once he stepped from the office he would relinquish any control he had. Miles had always adapted to changing environments, this would be different. He turned the lock and held a stabbing stick. He peeped out, to the right was clear, that’s the way he needed to go. The left had several undead moping about. Blood and gore splattered the clinical white walls and linoleum floors. Miles always thought the place needed a bit of colour. He closed the door but left it unlocked.
He shoved the baton into the waistband of his pants and held the stabbing sticks in either hand. ‘This is where we part ways doc.’
The doctor tensed as he looked at the sticks. Miles shook his head. ‘These are not for you, no. What I have in mind for you is worse, much worse. The wet patch around the doctor’s groin blossomed again.
Miles placed his hand on the handles of the wheelchair and steered the doctor towards the door. He made a muffled attempt at protest, Miles ignored it. He opened the door and pushed the doctor into the corridor facing the dead. He couldn’t move far but Miles felt the doctor push further into the chair. The doctor had heard screams and alarm bells, but he never imagined the horror outside his office would be far worse than what was happening inside.
The dead advanced towards them, Miles removed the gag from the doctor’s mouth. ‘Any last words,’ he asked.
‘Please, don’t let this happen to me.’
‘I recall saying the same to you over twenty years ago doctor.’
The doctor didn’t have time to respond as he felt the motion of the chair wheel forward. The monster that had ruined Miles’s childhood rolled helplessly into the monster’s that would dictate his future. The monster that Miles had become ended as the dead tore into the tortured doctor. He turned towards the exit and headed out. Before he reached the doctor’s car, he had to put down a few of the undead.
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 23