Devouring The Dead (Book 1)

by Russ Watts

  “Let me enlighten you, darling,” said Jenny, leaning forward over the desk. “When you were just a twinkle in the milkman’s eye, we used to read books: great wads of paper, bound together with words on. This was before the Kindle was invented. Let me guess, you’ve probably got one of those Express things at home, right? Like a sheet of paper but with lots of novels in it? Shakespeare? Dickens? Heard of them?”

  “Oh, all right, yeah I got one of them. Never heard of Shakespeare or whatshisname. I don’t like reading much. I’ve heard of them books you’re talking about. Sounds, well old, like something my dad would like.” The group chortled and Amber went red.

  “Oh, whatever, you don’t have to be so stuck up about it, just because I’m younger than you.” She stood up and looked at Brad. “I’m going to the tenth floor, I hear they’ve got a bigger rec’ room there with much stronger stuff than just cups of bloody tea. I need a change of scenery. Anyone coming?”

  Nobody answered her because nobody wanted to go with her. They were comfortable enough here, waiting for news from Jill. Amber’s company, whilst physically attractive, could be testing. As she turned and walked away, Brad stood up and followed her.

  “Back soon, folks, I’ll just make sure she’s okay,” he said swaggering off.

  “I’ll bet he does,” said Jenny quietly, exchanging looks with Jackson.

  Out by the exit to the stairwell, Brad caught up with Amber, as she had hoped, and he put a hand on her shoulder. The chatter of the group had started again and was distant.

  “Hey, babe, you all right?” he asked her.

  Amber looked up at Brad and fluttered her eyelashes. She leant closer to him. “Yeah, sorry, I just need a break. It’s hard enough working with them. Don’t ask me to spend the night with them too.”

  Brad drew her close and they pressed against each other. He could feel her pert breasts pressing against his chest and she put her arms around his waist. She looked up and he leaned in to kiss her. A faint bang startled them as someone in the rec’ room went to the toilet, the door banging shut behind them.

  “Come on, let’s go to the café and see what’s going on outside. It might be clear now,” said Amber tugging Brad along into the stairwell.

  “Actually, I have a better idea,” said Brad stopping. “Let’s go upstairs. I think everyone else has left, so let’s explore a little. When else do you get an opportunity like this?” He flashed his teeth and Amber melted.

  “Okay, I’m game.” Amber pushed her blonde hair behind her ears and walked on ahead of Brad up the stairs, so he could follow her slim legs all the way. One floor up and they found the door was locked. On the next floor, Amber pushed the door open and walked in. It was a reception area carpeted with lush green plants decorating every corner.

  “Hello? Anyone here?” She giggled as Brad took her hand and he led her through another door into an office. It looked much the same as theirs except with less cubicles and more space. The silence was bizarre. To be stood in such a huge room without the normal chatter and hum of life, was a little unnerving.

  “This way,” said Brad, and Amber duly followed him, holding his hand firmly. He found his way into a large lounge area with soft recliners, drink machines, a sink, and two long, brown, sofas. Amber walked over to the window and pushed her face up against the glass.

  “I can’t see anything. It’s so gloomy out there,” she said. She felt Brad’s arms slip around her and he nuzzled her neck. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting his hands ride up inside her top to squeeze her breasts through her silky bra.

  “Oh, Brad,” she murmured as she let him take off her bra. He stepped back and in the dim light, she turned around to face him, pulling her top off so he could see her small but pert breasts, her pink nipples standing out in the unlit room. She licked her lips and knelt down before him unzipping his trousers. She pulled his pants down and took his erection out. Brad looked at the reflection before him in the large window. He smiled at himself and watched Amber’s blonde head bob up and down as she sucked eagerly on his hard cock, his hands resting on her bare shoulders.

  Ranjit leant back and unzipped his trousers, focusing the camera on Blondey. After all the stress and shit he had dealt with today, he could do with some entertainment.

  * * * *

  Christina wiped her nose and got up. Ten minutes of crying and she was through. Her staff would have egg on their faces when they came back to work tomorrow. She wandered aimlessly through her office looking for a distraction. She eventually found herself back in the boardroom. The storm was dying down and her eyes ached. She rubbed her puffy, red eyes, and looked east. Through two skyscrapers opposite, a small gap gave her a glimpse of the airport. Occasionally, she would take a break in here on her own, and watch the planes taking off and landing. She didn’t like to visit the kitchen often. Invariably, the staff would leave as soon as she came in and eventually she stopped bothering. Today was so quiet though, she felt like she needed to see those planes, to know there was still life out there somewhere.

  The clouds obscured any clear sight of the airport but she noticed it was unusually quiet. There were no planes in the sky and no movement on the ground. Even the runways were quiet and dull. The usual twinkling landing lights were all off. She had never seen it so empty before.

  Christina wondered if perhaps the situation was more serious than she had given credence to before. From the boardroom, she dialled security, but there was no answer again. She went to the lifts but there was no response. She hit the call button repeatedly but it brought nothing up to rescue her. She went back to the boardroom and sat casually on the table, its smooth mahogany finish cool against her legs.

  “I’m not walking down twenty five sodding flights of stairs,” she said aloud. In this room, she was used to an answer when she spoke: mostly yes’s, rarely a no. Now her voice was unaccompanied by anything but the sound of her own beating heart. Well, that’s something, she thought.

  Her stomach grumbled. The evening was drawing in and she began to wonder if she was going to have to stay the night. It was that or walk down to the ground and see what was happening. Maybe Edward and the others would be down there waiting for her, ready to have a good laugh.

  “Suppose I’d better go,” she said to herself. Sitting there quietly, procrastinating as the weak rain pitter-pattered against the window, she began to hear another noise: a beating, thumping sound, at first faint, but increasing in volume by the second.

  Christina slid off the table and stood by the full length windows looking out over the grey world. It didn’t occur to her to look down. She had trained herself over the years not to do that anymore: the height was disconcerting. If she had looked down though, she would’ve seen the city as it had become in the last twelve hours: the dead, the fires, the burning trucks and the shambling corpses. She would’ve grasped the severity of her situation at last.

  Suddenly, the noise increased sharply and an army helicopter appeared, its rotor blades spinning rapidly. Unknown to her, it was the same one that had ferried Doctor Garner away earlier in the day. It had gone back to St Thomas hospital at his bequest, before he died, to retrieve some key information: a body. He had described it and the soldiers had managed to find it where he said it would be. They were transporting it now back to a secret location.

  The khaki green helicopter was huge. She had never seen one so close before and it was now only about fifty feet away. It was headed in the direction of the airport when, without warning, it veered off to the left. Christina watched as the overhead blades came within inches of striking the tower opposite her. She looked on as the helicopter momentarily hovered, righting itself, before lurching again to one side. It was caught in a spin and the metal beast came straight toward her. Christina screamed and froze.

  It stopped just in time, inches away from crashing straight through the boardroom windows making mincemeat out of her. She clearly saw the pilot who was struggling with the controls. Two men appeared to be
fighting, knocking and pushing him, when suddenly they were upon him. The pilot’s mouth shouted unheard obscenities and then the helicopter swung round and plummeted down.

  Christina watched it disappear from view and she fell to the floor, her shaking hands grateful to be able to clutch the firm flooring. She rested her clammy forehead against the cool glass. It was unreal. Moments later, the building shook as a fireball billowed up from below.

  “Oh God,” she said, “what’s happening?” Never had Christina felt more alone.

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes earlier and with no information from Jill, Jackson decided they ought to try downstairs again and see if they could get out, or at least figure out what was going on. He talked to Freddy and Benzo who agreed with him, and they talked to Tom and Brad. Between them, they decided they had to risk it. There was no way Parker was going back down, so Brad decided to go with Tom. Sitting up on the sixteenth floor was getting them nowhere; people were starting to get hungry and whilst there was food in the kitchen, none of them liked the idea of sleeping at the office.

  “So, buddy, you good to go?” said Brad.

  “Yep, sure. We should stick together. Safety in numbers and all that.” Tom thought it was a good idea to check downstairs too. He still felt a bit like an outsider, being the new guy, but he wanted to get involved. He didn’t feel much like sitting around anyway; he wanted to do something useful. Brad seemed pretty dependable. Being able to hold a civil conversation was something that seemed to elude a lot of people these days, so Tom was thankful of his company.

  “Let’s get this done, then.” Brad strode off to the stairwell and Tom followed. As the door swung shut behind them, the office was again thrust into silence.

  On the way down, they didn’t speak. The stairs were illuminated by the emergency lighting; a strange orange light that only heightened Tom’s feeling of wariness. They descended the stairs and on each floor Brad tested the exits. Every door was unlocked; some swung open easily, some seemed to get stuck as if there was something lodged behind them. They didn’t venture any further than the doors, as there seemed no point at this stage. Upon reaching the ground floor, Brad stopped, resting his hand on the last door handle.

  “What’s up?” said Tom.

  “You ready for this?” asked Brad. “We don’t know what’s on the other side of that door, buddy. Could be nothing, could be a whole heap of trouble. You okay with that?”

  “I’m ready,” said Tom. He had to stop himself from smirking. In the office, he could tell that Brad was playing the hero; flexing his muscles both literally and metaphorically, but there was no need to do it down here. It was just the two of them and Brad was not Tom’s type: wrong sex for starters. Tom could tell that Brad was used to being in control and having his own way. Brad wasn’t really asking Tom if he was ready for trouble - he was asking him if he was a coward or a fighter. Brad just wanted to let Tom know who the boss was.

  “Go ahead, Brad, I’ve got your back,” said Tom, lowering his head submissively, but keeping his senses alert. Brad opened the door slowly and looked out. The lobby appeared empty. He pushed the door open further and took a step out. It was cold and dark. There were no lights on in the foyer aside from the emergency exit signs above the doors. The front desk was empty. Brad motioned for Tom to follow and he let the door swing behind him. Suddenly, he realised if it latched shut, they might not be able to get back in again and he grabbed the handle. Tom took his tie off and shoved it between the door and the frame, propping it open.

  “Can you see anything?” Tom whispered to Brad who was creeping forward.

  “No, it’s too dark outside. Look, the rain’s nearly stopped. I’m going to try the front door, see if it’s open yet.” Brad crept toward the huge glass doors and when he reached them he pulled on the handle, but they wouldn’t budge. He shook them harder, but they didn’t move an inch.

  “This is weird,” said Brad as Tom came up beside him.

  “Is it? From what Jessica told us earlier, I’m not surprised,” said Tom.

  “You know how much money Fiscal Industries makes per year? More than you can count to, buddy. And they don’t do it by working nine to five and going home for a fish supper. This place crunches numbers twenty four hours a day. For them to be closed up this long, means whatever is going on out there is heavy shit. I don’t like this.”

  Tom and Brad cupped their faces against the glass and strained their eyes, trying to penetrate the darkness. The street lights were out and all they could see was the night. The roads were empty, bar a couple of taxis, which were clearly empty. The taxi’s doors were open though, which was unusual. Brad took a step back from the door and began waving his hands over his head.

  “Hey, anyone there? Hey! Can you hear us?” Brad called out and was looking up at a camera he had noticed above the doorway. There was a small red blinking light on it indicating it still had power. Brad lowered his arms.

  “The camera’s still on, but I don’t think anyone’s home. Maybe Jessie had it wrong.”

  “So what now? You heard what Parker saw happening earlier. Something’s going on. Where is everyone now?” said Tom puzzled. “How come there are no lights on out there? Even the street lights are off. I think we’re gonna have to stay put tonight and try and leave tomorrow. I don’t think we’re going anywhere tonight.”

  “Well, there’s no way we’re going out the front door. These doors aren’t made of ordinary glass. They’re built to withstand bullets and all sorts of shit. Money can buy you pretty good security. I guess we...” Brad stopped and held up a hand.

  “Listen,” he whispered. Tom froze. He had heard it too. There was a scuffling sound outside. They looked but couldn’t see where the noise was coming from. Brad pushed his nose against the glass, peering intently through to the outside world.

  He jumped back suddenly when a dog appeared out of the gloom and ran up to the door. Tom couldn’t help but laugh. Tough guy spooked by a dog. Brad whirled around.

  “You think that’s funny, buddy? Take a closer look,” said Brad angrily, stepping back from the door slowly, not taking his eyes off the dog.

  Tom approached the door and looked at the dog. He wasn’t too familiar with dogs, but it was a Golden Labrador of some type. There was something odd though. The dog’s coat was matted with blood and it wasn’t barking or making any sound. The dog opened its mouth and tried to bite the glass. Its teeth clacked annoyingly on the door. Tom’s brow furrowed with concern. The dog’s eyes were pure black and Tom bent down to look closer. The dog’s throat had been ripped out; there was no way it could be alive. It began pawing at the glass, its mouth salivating and leaving slimy trails over the pane. Tom stood up and backed away.

  “What the hell is it? I mean, it can’t be, it’s...” Tom refused to believe what he was seeing.

  “It’s dead, buddy,” said Brad. Tom stood beside him marvelling at the dead dog that was trying to get in. He might not know much about dogs, but he knew that dead dogs should stay that way.

  Suddenly, a figure appeared behind it. A young woman in a blue skirt, naked from the waist up with dirty blonde hair flying wildly about her face, ran up to the glass doors quickly and began pounding on them with her fists. Brad and Tom both jumped back, shocked.

  The woman said nothing and ignored the dog who reciprocated. She began trying to bite at the glass door too. Her naked body was pressed up against the glass, but Brad and Tom felt repulsed.

  “Look at her,” said Tom quietly. “Look at her face.”

  He felt sick. Brad saw the cuts on her face and the deep gashes across her cheeks. Above her right ear, her head had been torn open, her scalp removed, exposing her brain. Her eye sockets were empty and blood seeped from them. The woman continued to throw herself against the glass, the bangs ringing around the large foyer.

  “So it’s true. Shit. When Parker started talking about zombies this afternoon, I figured he had lost the plot. What with Cindy dying and all the
rumours, I mean... that is some bullshit right there.” Brad and Tom took another step back.

  “Bulletproof you said, right?” asked Tom, taking another step back. The woman continued pounding the glass doors.

  “Yeah,” said Brad biting his lip. His bravado was disappearing fast.

  “Reckon it’s enough to hold fifty of those things back? A hundred?” asked Tom.

  Brad shrugged. “Come on, Tom, let’s just get back upstairs.” He turned away just as another two figures emerged from the blackness outside and joined the dog and the woman; one, an older man, grey suit hanging loosely over his slim frame, shuffled up to the glass and stared. The man’s skin was pale and he raised his arms. His hands were missing and he pressed bloody stumps against the glass doors, smearing bright red blood everywhere. All the while, his eyes stared into the foyer at Tom and Brad.

  The other figure, another man but slightly younger, was uttering short grunts. He crawled up to the glass and sat in front of it, hammering on the vibrating glass doors. To Tom, he looked fairly normal, but the man’s spine was broken from where a fleeing taxi driver had run him over. The man’s legs were mangled beyond use. When he opened his mouth, Tom could see the man had no tongue. He didn’t want to think what had happened.

  Tom and Brad left the foyer. The thumping sounds of the dead pummelling the glass doors echoed through the building’s empty corridors. The dog and the four zombies were rapidly joined by more. Tom and Brad headed back up the stairwell to tell the others what they had witnessed. The exit door in the foyer slowly swung shut behind them, stopping when it reached Tom’s discarded tie. Their footsteps echoed down the stairwell and through the crack in the door, joining the dead, leaving the faintest gap between them.

  * * * *

  “Hey!” Benzo was stood in the doorway to the second floor. Tom and Brad followed him through, and into the cafe.

  “What are you doing here?” Brad asked him.

  “Parker wanted to come down. We didn’t think it was a good idea coming on his own, so I came with him. He was thinking about what you said earlier, Tom, about taking care of Cindy? He’s putting her in the cold store.”