by Russ Watts
“Fuck this, what are we gonna do? We’ve got to get out of here!” Freddy was pacing up and down anxiously.
“Like that? No fucking way,” said Brad. The office was now full of crying and sobbing. Nobody said anything for a few minutes as they digested what was happening mere feet away. Everyone was facing the floor or into the office. Not a soul could bear to look out the window for fear of what they might see. The same thoughts reverberated through everyone’s minds. How long would it be before it was their turn? Would they jump too?
“We should wait it out,” said Jackson, eventually breaking the silence. “Those things down there can’t last forever. Our building is secure and safe. Sooner or later the government will have to act. They’ll send someone. They can’t just leave us.” He was sat leaning back against the wall by the water cooler. He looked like he had aged ten years overnight, thought Jenny.
“I agree,” said Brad. Tom was surprised to hear Brad siding with Jackson. He had assumed Brad would want out of here as quickly as possible.
“Look, there are twenty five floors in this damn building. That means about twenty five kitchens and the café on the second floor. I’d say about half of them at least would be well stocked, so there’s food and water here. We just have to get organised. We can search the floors carefully and regroup back here. If we stay here, we’ll be safe.”
“Exactly,” said Jill. Her face lit up. Finally someone was seeing sense. “We can go without our luxuries for a couple of days. We can survive this. Those things can’t get at us here.”
“But my wife...”
“My parents won’t...”
“I need to get home to...”
Jill was met by a chorus of disagreeing voices. She stood up and rubbed her tired eyes.
Caterina walked back to the window and looked down to the ground below. “There’s so many of ‘em.”
“I think we should leave,” said Tom. “We’re only as safe in here for as long as we think we are. We need to find a way out.”
“Seems to me we’re in a bit of a quandary. The only way we’re going to sort this, is with more information,” said Jackson. “I can see logic with both sides of the argument.”
Brad rolled his eyes and arched his back. His neck cracked as he limbered up. He had not had much sleep in the night.
“We need to make sure we’re secure here, but we also need to come up with an escape plan, ‘cause I sure don’t see any sign of help coming,” said Jackson. “I can organise things and I’m happy to co-ordinate everything, I suggest we...”
“Hey, Jackson, chill buddy. This ain’t World War Two and you’re not in charge. This is a democracy,” said Brad.
“Listen, son, I’m just suggesting that I have more experience than you, so it makes sense to...” said Jackson. He pulled himself up off the floor using the water cooler as a hand rail.
“Oh, fuck off, Jackson,” said Brad walking towards him. “If there was a crown of thorns here, you’d be parading around in it. You’re such a fucking martyr. You can’t save everyone, buddy.”
“All right, come on guys, knock it off, we’re all stressed out,” said Tom.
“Yeah,” said Benzo, taking hold of Brad’s arm, “let’s just chill and figure this out.” Brad and Jackson stared at each other while the room watched. There was no sound, but the ticking of the clock on the wall. Finally Jackson held up his hands.
“Whatever, let’s just get this sorted. I’m tired.” He slumped back against the wall.
“Tom, buddy, why don’t you go downstairs, see if you can find anything from security,” said Brad taking Chloe’s hand. She looked up at him, surprised. “See if there’s another door somewhere that might be clear? A fire exit or something, you never know. Until we find anything better, we’d better get prepared. Let’s pair up, search this building floor by floor, and bring any food and drink we can back here.”
“I’ll come with you, mate,” said Freddy to Tom. “Getting out of here is my priority. This place is just a fucking tomb.”
“Okay, nut up people, find a partner and get looking,” said Brad. “Jill, make yourself useful for once and draw up a list for us. One pair to search two floors each just about covers it. We should get this done by lunchtime. I’ll start with Chloe and cover seventeen and eighteen.”
Brad walked off pulling Chloe behind him, straight out into the stairwell. Jill said nothing, but grabbed a sheet of paper and drew up a list. At no point did she even attempt to handle the shift in power now developing. Brad’s condescending words sailed clean over her head. Once all the floors had been covered, she handed the list out so everyone knew where to head.
“I’ll stay here and tidy up,” she said. “Caterina, in your condition, I think you’d better stay here too. Maybe you can sort out the kitchen, please? It’s bit of a mess.”
Caterina huffed and then shuffled off to clean the kitchen, secretly glad she didn’t have to wander the building. Despite what had happened in the other tower, she felt safe here. Who knew what was on the other floors. There could be more of those people: the infected and the dead.
Jackson wandered off with a man named Troy. He was a quiet man, subservient, and went along with any suggestion the group offered.
With Caterina in the kitchen and the others off searching the building, it wasn’t long before Jill was alone. She wheeled the television in from the meeting room and turned it on. Not surprisingly, there was nothing on. There was no emergency broadcast signal, no news, and nothing but snow on all the channels. She looked around the office. How long would they have to stay here? She returned to her office and thought about the women who had jumped. God help them all if it came to that. She couldn’t imagine the terror they must have felt stepping out of the building. Taking one’s own life was the ultimate decision. Perhaps it was better to die now, than suffer for eternity.
* * * *
Christina had spent the night in the boardroom, lying under the huge desk. She had drawn the blinds, blotting out the night, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. After the helicopter had crashed, she was scared. She was scared to leave, but scared to stay. She had fixed something to eat in the kitchen, but hadn’t really had much of an appetite. The night had been restless, her thoughts and dreams random and obscure. In one, Edward had come back, but he had walked in to Christina’s office and just kissed her, then left without saying a word. In another, she was lying on the beach in the south of France where she had gone last year, except the beach was empty. All the tourists had gone and she was lying peacefully on the beach as the ocean lapped at her feet. A cloud suddenly blocked out the sun and when she opened her eyes, a helicopter was plummeting down to her.
Christina drew back the blinds and was shocked. The building opposite was burning from top to bottom. She knew people who worked for Akuma and was worried.
“How on earth...?” She looked from side to side but the other buildings were the same as yesterday. It seemed quiet. The sun was shining. She tried to see the airport, but the smoke blocked her view. She realised that the helicopter had crashed into the building last night. Shouldn’t the fire brigade have come by now to put it out? Where were the police? Christina looked down at the ground. There were thousands and thousands of people filling the streets. Was there some kind of demonstration or protest march going on? She had seen a few lately, especially around the city, but normally, the hippies were quietly and quickly moved on. This was something else.
She picked up the phone but it was dead. She went back into the office and tried calling security from her desk, but there was no answer. All the outside lines were down. She tried email, but she hadn’t had any since yesterday morning. She tried the internet but could not get access.
“This is ridiculous.” Christina could feel her anger rising again as she picked up her black suit jacket and went to the stairwell. She was just going to have to go downstairs and face the problem head on. Christina started the long journey down.
* * *
*
“Oh, Brad, I just don’t know what to do,” said Chloe, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards on the eighteenth floor. “I mean, is it that bad out there? Really? I want to go home, but...”
“Hey, buddy, yes it is that bad out there. You find anything useful?” Brad had a plastic bag over his shoulder full of packets of biscuits.
“No, not really, whoever worked on this floor was well stingy.” She slammed the cupboard shut. “All I could find was this bloody packet of mints.”
Brad looked at her holding up a thin tube of mint sweets. She wasn’t the most attractive of girls, but she had a good figure.
“You know it’s funny we work in the same office and yet, I don’t think we’ve ever spoken to each other. How old are you, Chloe?”
“Twenty one.” Brad just looked at her and nodded. Chloe had looked at Brad many times, particularly at those crystal blue eyes, but had never been brave enough to speak to him before.
“How old are you?” she said, unsure of herself, putting the mints back down on the desk.
“Older than you. And old enough.” Brad put the plastic bag down and walked out of the kitchen area. He gave her a big grin. “Come on.”
Brad went to the lounge area where there were some big sofas and he sat down. Chloe followed him and sat down next to him. She pulled her short skirt down as she sat and clasped her hands on her bare knees.
“We should keep looking for stuff, you know,” she said nervously, looking ahead into the vacant office.
“Yeah, we will. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he replied. He put his hand on hers.
“I’m okay, I suppose. I’m a bit worried but...”
“I hope we make it out of this,” he said, removing his hand and reclining in the sofa. The room faced away from the burning building, so the sunshine was beaming straight into the room and Chloe’s legs were already getting warm.
“Do you think we will?” Chloe turned to look at Brad. The sunlight was making his eyes seem even bluer than usual, and he looked at her tenderly. He just nodded and took her hand again. He leant forward and kissed her gently on the lips.
“Chloe, you’re so amazing.” Brad was well practised at this and found it hard not to laugh. It was so easy. He knew he was a killer, but he was not a rapist; they always wanted him.
“Oh, Brad,” she murmured, and she held him close, kissing his neck as he caressed her. He unzipped his jeans and pushed her head down. Inexperienced and unable to resist, Chloe bent over and took Brad in her mouth.
“Gentle, Chloe. Slower.”
She sucked on his hardness, amazed that he should like her so much. He was going to take care of her. Maybe he would tell everyone he was her boyfriend and then she would have him all to herself. His hands were forcing her head down so hard that she was struggling to breathe though, and Chloe stopped.
“Sorry, I just had to...”
“It’s all right, babe,” Brad said standing up. He pulled his shirt off over his head exposing his flat stomach. He let his jeans drop to the floor. “Take your clothes off.”
Chloe was shaking like the last leaf on the tree in autumn, but undid the buttons on her blouse and cast it aside. She reached around her back and took off her black bra, draping it over the sofa. He admired her full breasts and she reached out to take him in her mouth again. He stopped her.
“And the rest,” he said.
“What if someone comes?” Chloe said looking around, looking mischievously up at Brad, dreamy Brad.
“I’m hoping someone does, if you know what I mean?” Brad winked, took hold of her hands and pulled her up. She stood before him and they kissed. Chloe longed to feel more of Brad as he licked his way down her chest, between her breasts and over her nipples to her belly. She let him unfasten her skirt and it slid to the floor. Closing her eyes, she felt Brad pull her panties down and she moved her feet apart so he could find her. She moaned as he caressed her and used his tongue to pleasure her.
“Oh, Brad.” When Chloe was close to orgasm, he suddenly stood up and kissed her again. She could feel his proud erection against her thigh. He pushed her onto the sofa and she fell over the arm. Knowing Brad was behind her, she spread her legs and she felt his hands on her waist. He instantly thrust himself inside her and began fucking her. At first, he went slowly and she enjoyed it; it was only the second time she had gone all the way with a man. As Brad continued though, he got more forceful and he began to hurt her.
“Brad, I...”
“Shut up.” Brad moved his hands up her body and crudely grabbed her tits, crushing them with his exploring fingers. He felt her try to pull away and grabbed her closer, fucking her harder and forcing her down into the sofa so she couldn’t get away.
“Brad, don’t...” Chloe didn’t have the strength to throw him off and knew it. She closed her eyes and thought of home as he fucked her, wishing it to be over. All thoughts of mutual orgasms were gone and she wanted it to stop. Brad didn’t care about her or he wouldn’t be hurting her like this. She tried to get up again but felt his hand push down on her neck, pushing her face into the crease of the cushion. Worried that if he pushed her down any further she wouldn’t be able to breathe, she stopped fighting him and let him fuck her.
It seemed to take a long time before he came. After he had, he collapsed on top of her and she felt his warm sweaty body on her back before he rolled off.
“Buddy, that was just what I needed,” he said as he sat beside her. She slunk back onto the sofa and sat beside him, not touching him. She brought her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes.
“What’s wrong with you?” he said. She had crossed her arms in front of her and was facing away from him. She wanted to get dressed, but was worried what he might do if she tried to leave.
“Brad, I told you to stop and...”
“And what? You wanted me to fuck you. Someone’s got to teach you the ways of the world, girlie. Stay there, I’m not done with you yet.” Brad laughed and got off the sofa picking his clothes up.
“Whatever. I’m going to see Jill.” Chloe bent down to pick her clothes up and felt Brad’s hands on her neck.
“Ow, stop it. That hurts.”
“Fucking hell, you whores are all the same. Get up.” Brad forced Chloe up and grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back. He marched her over to a wall.
“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you again? Are you absolutely, positively sure?” Brad stared into her eyes. Suddenly, his blue eyes didn’t seem so charming. His face was set like stone and Chloe was anxious to leave.
“Yes. Please, Brad, let me go, you’re hurting me.” Chloe was now more scared of what was happening inside the building than outside.
“Well that’s a shame, Chloe. I know I’m a good fuck and you weren’t so bad. That’s a real shame. You know what happened to the last cunt who fucked me, then tried to fuck me over?”
Brad pulled a handle on the wall behind Chloe and a door flung open. Nestled between a row of hanging coats was Amber. She had been propped up against the back wall and her bulging dead eyes stared back at Chloe. She was naked and covered in cuts and bruises. Her twisted legs had turned a horrible shade of purple and her face was locked in an expression of shock. Brad let go of Chloe’s arm and she spun around. Brad looked at Chloe’s face, so young and full of fear.
“What did you...?” Brad grabbed Chloe’s throat with both hands and squeezed. Her weak arms were no match for his and she clung to his forearms until the end. It only took about thirty seconds before her body went limp. He kept squeezing, to make sure. When she could no longer support her own body weight, he took her dead body and dragged it back to the sofa.
“I told you I wasn’t done with you yet, bitch.” He threw Chloe back over the sofa, putting a pillow under her stomach, raising her backside into the air. He aroused himself, ready to fuck her again. Unlike Amber, she was still warm to the touch.
“Enjoy the show, babe,” he said to Amber. Her limp face d
id not answer and her dead eyes were incapable of witnessing the violent abuse that Brad inflicted on Chloe’s dead body. Her fingers did twitch though as the infection began to trickle through her lifeless body, the infected rat that had bitten her long since gone to find another source of food.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Philip, come on, we can’t.”
Philip looked at his wife with mock disdain. “I think we can and we shall and we will.” He poured the red wine into the wine glasses that were still dirty from the night before, picked them up, and walked back around to the plump leather chairs where they were sat. He handed his wife a glass.
“So what shall we do today, Kate?” He raised his glass to toast her and his face fell when she refused to raise hers.
“I’m serious, Philip, we can’t muck around forever.” Kate put her wine down on the glass table and put one hand to her temple. “Besides, I’ve got a headache.”
“Ah-ha, I knew it! You’re just a lightweight.” Philip took a sip of wine and embraced the burn. They had spent all last night drinking, before succumbing to sleep on the very same chairs where they were now. They wore the same clothes as yesterday, the same clothes they had slept in. What choice did they have?
“Darling, I’m just going to remind you of one thing,” said Philip.
“What’s that?” said Kate. She curled up into the black leather and willed her headache to go away.
“You’re right, we can’t muck around forever. We also can’t fuck around forever. In fact, I would say we can’t do a lot of anything forever.” Philip laughed at his own joke.
Kate looked at her husband, unsure if he was actually trying to prove a point, or if he was just drunk. She reached for the wine and took a sip.
“Do you remember what we did yesterday? After everyone ran? We came here, to the bar. It was your idea. I distinctly remember you saying, ‘Screw them all, let’s go to the bar and get shit-faced.’ Yay or nay?” Philip felt the flush of red wine in his throat and suppressed a burp.