The redheaded boy was bitten on his tongue, the virus entering from here. He was quickly infected, his heart not stopping during his zombification process. His gaze had changed to an opaque white, but still with an air of fury and ire, accompanied by quick movements and a thirst for blood. The redheaded boy, with a mouth full of blood now, ran towards a woman with her back towards the scene, and bit her in the ear, ripping it off at the base, with the ear now hanging directly from his teeth. Both Akira and the redheaded boy moved with the frightening speed of spiders.
The slower zombies that had entered the flea market scratched many of the tourists, who began to seize and transform in a matter of seconds.
‘The police! Where the Hell are the police?!’ An older man with a beard exclaimed loudly. He had notably thick neck veins and a hoarse voice from screaming so much. He saw no police, which to him was a very strange thing. Had he not heard the public address that had been circulating the airwaves in the past few days, the helicopters, and the quarantine that had been put in place? Everyone should have remained in their homes. Apparently not, and this new infection grew exponentially by the minute.
The screaming had a chain effect. The first wave of flea market denizens began to scream without the last people knowing why. There were rapid movements and attempts to escape without rhyme or reason.
Though, the zombies had already invaded the flea market, where the citizens and tourists went to shop, ripe for the picking. Some began to convulse upon being bitten or scratched, fell to the ground, only to get right back up with a changed gaze. The dark, earthen soil was soon dyed red within minutes.
All of the stalls were filled with people hiding, and others looking to take advantage of the situation by looting clothing and other trinkets, with the majority of the vendors, of Moroccan or Senegalese descent, tried to save themselves. The blood stained the clothes, and the seagulls, that were flying over the area, where all attentive with their small, beady eyes and great beaks, ready to grab something while they could.
Akira Hins rushed towards a woman and sank her dark, black painted nails into her dark eyes. Blood came out like a fountain, and the woman began to scream on the floor, while Akira threw herself against another woman, grabbing her feet.
The other zombies were slower than the recently infected, as they had died during the zombification process, opening and closing their foamy mouths, snapping at people running by and pushing each other out of the way.
A lot of people that were there began to call relatives on their mobiles. These calls, however, were met with laughter on the other ends. The mobiles soon crashed against the ground, completely unusable, as the zombies honed in and snapped against those hiding. Blood was soon shed over these broken mobiles.
It was finally understood that they were surrounded, something serious was happening.
‘Mum, what is happening?’ A young child of about five years asked, running up towards his mother, grabbing her hand. However, she did not respond. The child felt a cold hand. The zombified mother turned around and the little boy’s eyes opened wide and began to cry.
CXVI
From Geraneos, on the immense terrace of Peter’s duplex, he began to notice all of the commotion in the flea market. There were others who were crossing the road slowly, shambling. Peter began to worry about the situation, as it didn’t seem normal at all. He returned to the dining room, where his neighbour John was situated. He picked up the phone and tried to call emergency services, but it was engaged. The only thing that could be heard were beeps. He hung up the phone.
Worried, he went back to the terrace to assess the situation.
‘Why aren’t they answering the phone?’ He asked with a shaky voice.
‘Perhaps they are very busy,’ John replied jokingly.
‘Perhaps, it is possible.’
‘You know how it is: they always arrive too late. They only serve to hand out fines.’
Peter gave a forced smile upon hearing this.
CXVII
There was a large, wet stone that was completely blacked and covered in a dark moss. It was the socket that led to the sewers, as Sebastián knew very well. The moans and groans were growing much more intense, as the zombies wandered around on the other side of the wall, slipping and shambling across the wet rocks from where the waves crashed, generating copious amounts of sea foam.
‘You notice that there is no escape to the outside of the castle,’ Sebastián explained, opening his eyes even wider. ‘In addition, it wouldn’t really matter, as it is not safe outside. The pandemic will soon spread throughout the entire region.
‘A pandemic?’ Javier said, striking his rifle which his wife had been carrying.
‘Well, whatever you may call it. I call them infected, but they could be recognised as a pandemic, I should suppose. You know, when you refer to something bad that spreads rapidly,’ Sebastián said, stopping to take a breath before adding, ‘And it seems that whatever has happened out there has already spread pretty far.’
‘It’s true, the civil guard from the helicopters told us that we were now under quarantine,’ Javier recalled, he deep voice not changing tone. ‘Though, where are they now? They still haven’t returned,’ he added in a weaker voice.
Sebastián shrugged.
CXVIII
A group of zombies were already beginning to take Cocedores del Hornillo Beach, close to the Parra Passage, where the parade floats were being prepared and reading for their passage. The great music could not be heard just yet as the technicians were still putting on the finishing touches, with pin connections and doing sound tests. On the beach, close to the auditorium, there were still hundreds of tourists sunbathing, in addition to the area of Cocedores del Hornillo Beach.
Soaring through the blue sky was an engine that passes by in front of a strip of black smoke, holding a banner of about ten metres that read “Welcome to Águilas”. It was a piece of cloth, red with white letter, that fluttered in the wind, but maintained its horizontal position at all time. The plane made a left turn and finally disappeared in a puff of grey and black smoke. It didn’t matter, no one looked into the sky.
The zombies growled like large cats, shambling towards their target areas. However, their slow speed gave all of the tourists extra time to relax on the beach and the carnival workers time to prepare and design their floats that were still covered under large tarps.
Regardless, the zombies, which could be seen from afar like amorphous silhouettes, adopting strange postures. The carnival workers, who could see them, pointed and thought that they looked perfect for the carnival. They looked so realistic! Naturally, nothing could be further from the truth, and they would soon arrive.
There was still a margin of escape.
CXIX
Tomás explained to Sara and the smaller ones that they should probably stick together whiles searching the building for food. Never separated, perhaps with their backs against the wall. Directly outside their room was Fátima’s dead body, in her own pool of blood.
‘If we want to live, then we will need to stick together everywhere we go, for we know not how many more are wandering around here,’ Tomás explained.
‘I’m hungry,’ Daniel complained, taking his hand to his belly.
‘We are all hungry, Daniel. This is why we must go out and search for food that perhaps the construction workers have left behind,’ his uncle replied back to him, with a firm yet gentle touch to his voice.
Rosa, grabbing Sara’s hand, began to pout.
‘It has been four days since we have had a bite to eat,’ Sara reminded him, as if the responsibility should have fallen on Tomás’ shoulders.
‘Yes, I realise this. Nothing since we took refuge in that old warehouse back in Tápenas,’ he replied back, before adding, ‘Back before those creatures started turning into what they are now.
‘We were warned by the police of this. They had told us to remain locked in our homes,’
Sara recalled. ‘I can even recall the helicopters repeating the same thing.’
‘Well, where are these helicopters now?’
Sara shrugged, with her back towards the plastered wall. Her blouse was now so white that it seemed as though she had been rolling around in a bag of flour.
‘Perhaps they are looking for help,’ Daniel added with a gleam in his eyes. ‘Reinforcements!’
Tomás rubbed his hand through Daniel’s hair.
‘Perhaps you are right, but they are taking too long, son.’
At this point, just about everyone knew of the zombies in the surrounding streets. Though, these surrounding streets didn’t represent even thirty-five percent of the city. However, should these zombies reach the centre of the city, their infection rate would rise exponentially and would advance forward.
Tomás took a gulp of air, closing his eyes as he transitioned the plaster wall. He had the power to end things rapidly, as he still had his gun in hand. But hiding wouldn’t save them from death. They could either die from infection or starvation.
And although there were many of them, only a few thousand citizens of Águilas knew of them. There were thousands upon thousands more that were still ignorant of the current situation.
The helicopters hadn’t returned yet, either. It was too soon.
CXX
‘Are you sure that you still want to escape via the sewers?’ Sebastián asked, placing both hands on the rectangular stone that appeared to be a sliding door leading to what must have been another corridor.
‘What we want is to eat and drink,’ the young Asian tourist protested, removing his glasses. The lenses reflected the torch lights.
‘There is still time,’ Sebastián insisted, as if he were playing with them. On the other side of the wall there were groans and moans from the zombies that had been floating in the port waters, surprising swimmers who passed by, giving bites. Of course, it was still regionalised, and the entire city was still ignorant.
‘I agree with the Asian bloke,’ Javier replied back. ‘I’m also dying of hunger and thirst. A couple of fresh pints wouldn’t be so bad at all.’
Though, no one answered this.
All of the sudden, Sebastián pushed his eight against the rectangular stone and the door of solid rock begin to slide inwards with a pronounced grinding of rock against rock, letting in the light of the sun into the doorway and the strong aroma of seafoam. There was also something else.
There was a furious eye that gleamed back towards them, scanning them with blind eyes but sniffing the air. The face was wrinkled from the water and had violet lips that contrasted with its pale skin. It was a zombie, and Javier pointed his rifle directly to its head and let his finger toy with the trigger.
There was a shot that echoed throughout all of the castle corridors. Some had covered their ears while others their mouths. Pieces of bone, hair, and grey matter flew through the air from the small opening, but it was enough to see such a gory scene as the zombie itself fell back against the ocean rocks.
Sebastián, with a grimace in his smile, stood off the rectangular stone and replaced the stone. All of the survivors let out a small cry of astonishment. Their minds immediately changed.
Javier caressed his rifle again, remaining silent. It was strange that he had finally shut up.
Diego was frozen in shock, with Juan caressing his beard, all trembling in the small gusts of wind that had entered from the opening.
‘There is more that you should all know,’ Sebastián began, before pausing to cough. ‘Out there, there are infected and zombies. Zombies are infected post-mortem, be it during their death during the zombification process or in their graves. The infected, however, are those that managed to survive the zombification process before turning into one of them. They are fasters and more dangerous than the traditional zombies, that shamble and drag their heavy, bloody feet,’ Sebastián continued, pausing only to cough more. ‘There is no cure for something that has been injected with the serum of life. Those injected directly with the serum will break down, unlike Hins A-Akila. They become carriers and retain their own minds, and can talk as well, though they have the same eyes as other zombies, whitish and opaque, and can only see silhouettes. Is all of this clear?’
There was a murmur, and then silence.
‘Ah!’ the young Asian tourist exclaimed, as if no one else had said anything.
‘Here we are safe, and what is out there will take its natural course, if it has not already happened,’ Sebastián explained with a bit of hoarseness in his voice, pausing only for a moment to breathe. ‘So, if there are no further doubts or questions, let us continue now to the shelter. There is plenty of food and drinking water that I have accumulated.’
There was a silence, and a zombie from the outside could be heard, slipping on one of the rocks and falling into the water. It was clearly audible.
CXXI
‘Ascension to Heaven,’ where the words uttered by Father Martín, while the dead began to open their eyes and seize in their coffins.
The acolytes were still breaking their gravestones with the metal hammers and injecting the serum of life into the cadavers. However, Father Martín only had the first formula to the serum of life created by Hin A-Akila, and not the second. The second formula would allow one to live eternally sans rot. This could explain the rumours of Hins being hidden in some alcove underneath the city since the 11th century, he thought to himself, his lips forming a straight, black line that stretched across his face, his gaze now becoming vague and off. It was the first time in a while that he felt off.
‘Ascension to Heaven,’ he thought out loud once more, continuing through the cemetery until sunset, when the sun began to hide behind the mountains. The carnival parade would soon begin.
The zombies had already begun their feasting.
But Father Martín was not happy. He was beginning to rot and smelled like a wet rat in the sewers.
The infection was also beginning to dissipate throughout the city.
Prelude
Part Five
In spite of all of his euphoria, Father Martín was not pleased. Behind his back was a sudden revolution brewing amongst his undead followers, as he breathed life into the dead. More and more of the infected endured the process of zombification without dying in the course of his plan, and they became fiercer and much faster than the dead zombies. The latter, however, were still taking the streets of Águilas, from the north to the south, and the east to the west. The sun was a great ball of fire that was now almost hidden behind the rocky mountain range and everyone was preparing to celebrate the carnival. Thousands of tourists had come to the city to celebrate this event and to drink more than they ever have in their lives. But they were there, masked and blending in with all of the other costumes, their mouths opening, sparkling with red blood, and biting. The virus would soon spread to three quarters of the city, while a select few would continue resisting in their hiding places.
In addition, Father Martín began to worry about his own rate of decomposition. He continued guiding his followers, who would soon betray him. There was Father Guillermo, who never spoke, and Father Isidoro, who was more ambitious. Meanwhile, in some part of the subsoil of Águilas, Hins A-Akila, the king of all the dead, who had discovered the serum of life that countered the putrefaction process, was still hidden. His skin was stretched and soft from the eleventh century, hundreds of years ago.
But now, it was necessary to finish resurrecting the dead from the cemetery, which, after convulsing in their coffins, parted different ways, advancing heavily, moaning and watching with blind eyes full of hate and darkness, even through their whiteness.
And the dead continued walking...
Part Five
Taking the streets
CXXII
The technicians, who were working on the sound equipment, set up the speakers which exploded like bombs during sound testing, while setting up the ster
eo systems to play harmoniously with the rhythm of the carnival goers traditional dances. There was a fleet of vehicles, each with two big speakers at the top, and a tiny generator that produced the necessary electricity to power the audio amplifier. All vehicles would be synchronised by radio, which aired over and over again the traditional carnival music that would be played during the event, to the rhythm of moving hands and hips. However, they were finally arriving, mixing in with the carnival goers that were already in costume, with their inert arms and snapping mouths that thirsted for blood. There was not enough for all of them.
However, there was something missing.
‘Where the Hell are the police? They always work security for the parade,’ one of the sound technicians asked his partner, a tall and thick man with a beard.
‘They must be preparing,’ his partner replied.
‘Nor has anyone seen the festivities council,’ the robust man said, plugging in some cables to the back of the audio equipment.
‘Blimey! Now that you mention it, it’s true. Nor has anyone seen them in Geos.’
‘Nor the helicopters with their blinding torches.’
His partner, a flaccid and thin man, shrugged.
Half of the city was hidden, already privy to what was happening. The other half of the city was still ignorant. Things continued in the same, autonomous fashion as always. In some places, the news spread like wildfire. In others, not so much. This was a strange case, but the city of Águilas is very large, and many parts of the city remained ignorant to the zombie plague.
But they had arrived to the parade.
And that was when it happened.
The floats were positioning themselves in order of departure in order to begin the parade. Each float had its own masked dancers, or perhaps just covered in feathers, including some heavily costumed characters. Others walked around in clown costumes with the intention of scaring the small children. Each float had its own choreography and its own gears that could fit an entire closet in order to keep it going through the night, letting out its powerful, musical vibrations into the air.
Infected, Zombi The City of the Zol Page 20