by Russ Watts
Kate was crying for Philip whilst Jackson, having evaded Jill’s clutches, ran to Jessica.
“Just go, now!” He practically pushed her out of the door and they sprinted out of the room.
Amber was still parading around the room whilst she burnt and the smoke from her crackling corpse was beginning to fill the room. Tom couldn’t see a way past her from where he was. He grabbed a chair and was waving it in front of Jill, fending her off like a lion tamer.
Suddenly, Troy appeared in front of Tom; his eyes were wild, red, and Tom knew Troy was infected. Troy ran at Tom, forcing him to throw the chair and dive under a desk. A woman, Julie-Anne, screamed and Troy forgot Tom, turning to the woman. She was brandishing a breadknife and slashing it through the air as Troy approached. She succeeded in cutting his face, but Tom heard her cries as Troy sunk his teeth into her skin, ferociously tearing out chunks of skin and muscle. Blood flecked Tom’s face, from where he knew not, and Troy ravaged Julie-Anne, his teeth slicing through her jugular vein, spraying Tom with more blood.
Through the chaos and carnage, Tom was unable to tell who was who anymore. Under the desk, he began crawling, edging his way to the door. He kept low, making sure his head stayed down, and tried to avoid breathing in the meaty smoke. He pushed his way through a tangled mess of wires and cables, dragging himself past chair legs, bags, rubbish and extension cords; all vying for the right to ensnare him in this deadly tomb forever.
As he crawled along, he saw the exit. Suddenly, his ankle caught in a looped wire. He turned over to free himself and Chloe’s hands grabbed him. She dragged herself onto his legs, her eyes locked on him and he felt a gut-wrenching fear, the likes of which he had never felt before.
Tom kicked and struggled, but he couldn’t shake her off. He rolled around on the floor and bucked underneath her, but she was up to his waist now and refusing to let go. Dina crashed down beside him, her face inches away from his.
“Dina, help me!” he said, but it was too late. She was gone. Blood spilled from her mouth and her nose was gone, chewed off. The blood oozing from her neck was so thick and rich it looked black. Her once white hair was stained with dark blood. He hoped Dina would stay dead long enough for him to get away from her.
Frantically, Tom swung a punch at Chloe. He struck her over and over until dread overcame him. He weakened as Chloe’s dead body continued its inexorable climb over him. His blows meant nothing to her, caused her no pain; they were nothing but an inconvenience that delayed her from being able to eat the luscious flesh before her. Finally, they were face to face, her jaws open and her breath stinking like rotten meat. Drool fell from her lips as she tried to clamp her teeth down onto his face.
Tom pushed her away, holding her head up, his hands locked around her neck, his fingers tracing the very same skin where Brad’s fingers had been last night. He could hear the sounds of his friends dying all around him, and his belief in his survival was waning. Chloe’s lank hair dangled down, its limp fronds wisping across his cheeks. Her bruised breasts swung above him and he tasted burning bile in the back of his throat.
Brad had stayed hidden for as long as possible. When Amber appeared, he slunk back against the wall and watched as Jenny died, horribly. As the fighting began, he slid back further, trying to make himself small, crawling behind a filing cabinet from where he watched Amber burn and Chloe kill. Brad was confused; how had the girl he murdered, returned to kill? He watched the horror unfold, shocked and frozen with fear. As Jackson and Jessica fought their way out into the stairwell, he realised he had only one chance to get out, or he would be left behind to die in here.
From his hiding place, he took a leap of faith and jumped out. Standing in the doorway was Kate, crying. She had picked up the metal table leg that Jackson had dropped in his panic to get out.
“Kate, let me help,” he said approaching her slowly. “Give me the weapon, Kate, we’ll get out together,” he said walking up to her.
“No. No, this is your fault. Jenny told me about you,” she struggled to say through her tears. .
Brad saw Michelle advancing, her dead arms reaching out and he punched Kate, grabbing the desk leg from her as she fell into Michelle’s deadly embrace. Kate screamed as Michelle’s teeth scratched her neck and drew blood. Brad spat on Kate and gripped his new weapon tightly. He was about to run when he saw Chloe on top of someone beneath a desk. He coughed as the smoke in the room thickened. There was not much time left; he had to go. A hand reached out from beneath the desk next to where Dina lay, dead. It was Tom. Self-preservation was number one on the agenda but Brad decided Tom was worth saving; he was no limp dick like the rest of these dead fucks and could prove to be useful later. Michelle was occupied struggling with Kate and Brad took a chance.
“Fuck you, bitch!”
A metal desk leg struck Chloe on the side of the head as Brad swung it down on her, cursing. It tore a hole in her cheek but did not deter her. Tom held her head up and saw the metal leg strike her again and again. He felt the vibrations shudder down his arms with each violent blow.
Finally Chloe lost her grip and Tom pushed her off. He scrambled clear of the desks, as Brad continued raining blows down on Chloe, her skull finally giving in to the relentless hammering and cracking open. Brad destroyed her decaying brain, sending chunks of it flying into the air as he pounded her with the metal leg.
“Come on, Brad, let’s go.” Tom pulled Brad back and they ran. A man named Chris that Tom had only spoken to once, lay in the doorway. His stomach had been slit open and Tom could see the man’s intestines, spilling out onto the floor. Chris was dead and Tom didn’t want to stick around to see how long he would remain dead. Dina was already rolling over onto her stomach, trying to stand.
Brad and Tom followed the footsteps and screams down to the ground floor, ignoring whatever was behind them. Bursting through into the foyer, the noise from the horde outside was noticeably louder than before and the banging and clawing at the glass doors was more insistent. The grunting and moaning sounds that the dead made, the only noise they could make, was louder too. Tom looked around, bending over to his knees to catch his breath.
“Who’s here?” he said wheezing. Brad was closing the door to the stairwell behind them.
“Hey, don’t shut that, what if someone else is behind you?” said Parker.
“Buddy, there’s no one else coming, we’re the last,” Brad answered. He looked around, but there was nothing to barricade the door with. He shoved it closed and hoped it would hold.
“So this is it?” said Tom. He looked around at the survivors in the foyer: himself, Brad, Parker, Jessica, Reggie, Christina, Jackson, Caterina, and Benzo.
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Jackson. “Jenny, Amber, Chris, David, Jill...they’re all dead. Everyone’s dead.” He wiped his face and unintentionally smeared blood across his forehead.
“Sort of,” muttered Brad as he slumped to the floor.
“What about Karl?” said Reggie. “I thought he was right behind me...him and, shit, I forget her name...a blonde woman...I’m sure they were...”
“Save your breath, they’re dead” said Brad.
“Dina too? I thought she was ahead of me?” Jessica swallowed down the feeling of nausea that was rising from her stomach.
“Trust me, they’re all dead,” said Brad. Nobody spoke. The only sound in the foyer came from the dead outside.
“Well, I’m not. Thanks Brad, I owe you,” said Tom. He offered Brad a grim smile and was acknowledged with a slight nod of the head. Brad looked at the metal pole in his hands that used to serve as a leg for an office desk. It was covered in blood, Chloe’s blood. He had killed her twice now. He looked at his shaking hands; was twice enough? How dead was dead anymore?
“So where to now, Tom?” said Benzo. “We need to get moving. I’m not waiting down here for those fucks to get in too.”
Everyone looked outside. The zombies were attacking the glass doors like wild animals; pawing at it and hammerin
g on it with their whole bodies. Tom was reminded of football crowds; people jostling and jumping up and down in their thousands, faces squashed as they crammed together and huddled in the herd.
“This way,” said Tom, and he walked toward a door behind the reception desk.
“But what about Kate?” said Christina. “She might be alive, we can’t just leave!”
“She’s dead, or as good as, anyway. I saw her get bitten before she ran,” said Brad walking away, following Tom. “Sorry, I tried to help her, but they pulled her away from me...there’s nothing we can do for her anymore.”
“Fuck,” said Christina. She watched Jackson follow Tom and the others behind him. Their heads were bowed. Even Brad, the ‘alpha male,’ looked defeated, she thought. She couldn’t see his smile from where she was. “And then there were nine,” she said shaking her head. Christina was the last to leave the foyer, the reception door closing behind her just as Jill reached the stairwell door. Jill jumped and pushed against the door until it gave way and she tumbled out into the foyer. The reception door had barely swung shut and Jill knew where to go. She followed them, her dead legs moving slowly, her impulses taking her toward the living.
* * * *
Tom led them down corridors, past closed rooms, retracing his steps with Freddy from yesterday. There was no talking. They were too shocked, scared, and bewildered for conversation. All they wanted to do was leave. Tom couldn’t understand how the plan had gone so awry. He tried to think back to the attack and how it had started. It had all been so fast it was difficult to remember it clearly. Jenny - she had been the first to die hadn’t she? He remembered she had been stood in the doorway arguing with Brad and then what? All hell had broken loose. Amber had appeared, but she was naked. Why the hell was she naked? After that, it was a blur.
“What the hell is that?” said Caterina. A muffled crashing noise came from one of the rooms as they passed it.
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “It was the same when I was here with Freddy. I can only guess one of those things is trapped in there. As long as it stays in there away from us, I don’t care.” He marched on and the others tried to ignore it.
“That’s the security guys’ room,” said Jessica quietly to Parker as they passed the door.
“So?” he said taking her hand. “What does that mean? Like Tom said, as long as they don’t interfere with us, who cares.” Parker pulled her past the door, reluctant to linger. He knew she worked closely with them and didn’t want her getting any ideas about going in there to see if anyone needed rescuing.
“Yeah, okay,” she said. She let Parker lead her onwards, but couldn’t help think there was something she was missing. Why did it seem important? She felt like she was cracking up. Thank God Parker was here. Lame as it was, she felt safer with him around. He and Benzo had helped her, befriended her, and treated her like a human being. Most people treated the receptionist like shit or at least thought she’d be easy. Talking to Parker the last couple of days had been the only thing to get her through this, and the loss of Brie.
“Here,” announced Tom. He stopped in front of a grey door and pulled it open. He led them down some steps and through a small passageway before opening another, larger door. When he opened it, the cold air hit them instantly and they looked out into a black underground car park.
“Jesus, you weren’t kidding,” said Reggie. “It’s pitch black in there.”
“Seriously, we have to go in there?” said Benzo.
“How many flashlights do we have?” asked Brad.
“No way, I can’t do it,” said Caterina. “No way I’m going in there.” She began crying and turned back, heading down the passageway to the steps.
“Hey, hold on, Cat,” said Jackson. He caught up with her and Brad fished around in the bags for any torches or lighters he could find whilst the others watched Jackson.
“I know this is scary, but we have to go. It’s not safe in here, you know that,” Jackson said putting a hand on Caterina’s shoulder. He looked her in the eye whilst she wiped the tears away.
“It’s not safe anywhere, is it!” she cried. “I hate the dark! I’m not going in there. I’ll wait here until someone comes for us. Someone has to come!” Her shrill voice was loud in the confines of the small passageway. Jackson tried to soothe her but she was scared and panicked.
“Hey, buddy, Cat, you’re going to have to calm down. If we go shouting and making too much noise, the fuckers are going to hear us.”
“All right, Brad, give her a break,” said Christina. “She’s young, she’s scared and she’s pregnant. Her hormones are all over the place, so leave her be, eh?”
“I don’t give a fuck where her hormones are. If she gets us killed, the first thing I’m gonna do is come back and eat the bitch.” Brad continued rifling through the bags.
“Oh nice,” said Christina, “such compassion.”
“Look, let’s just take a minute to get ourselves together,” said Tom. “Christina, do you think you could talk to Cat, please?”
“Sure,” she said, casting a furious glance over at Brad who ignored her.
“What have you found, Brad?” said Benzo as Brad threw one of the bags down on the floor in disgust.
“Not a lot, buddy, not a lot. We’ve got two flashlights, a couple of lighters and candles, some bottles of water and several crushed packets of biscuits.” He picked the metal rod up and held it reassuringly. “Thankfully, I’ve still got this.”
“I know this is not the time,” said Jessica quietly, “but I’m actually hungry.” Parker squeezed her hand and she put her head on his shoulder.
“What about weapons?” asked Tom. He pulled a large breadknife from one backpack.
“Well, it’s not much better really; a couple of knives, two frying pans, this fucking thing,” Brad said waving the leg around, “and an iron. I mean, who the fuck packed an iron?”
“Well, I do like a crisp collar,” said Benzo. Tom couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdness of it all, as Brad whirled the iron flex around in the air, and they all began laughing.
“Hey, guys,” said Jackson returning to the others, “we can get moving soon if we’re ready. She’s upset, but she’s calmed down a bit.”
“Thanks, Jackson,” said Parker. “We should get moving as soon as we can. I don’t like being down here, it doesn’t feel safe.” Jessica slipped her arm around Parker.
“I’m over this. The thought of those things makes me sick,” she said.
“Those things upstairs could attack at any time. They could be down here and we’d have no warning. I just want to get out of here now,” said Reggie. Christina had her arm around Caterina and they began picking up the bags, handing out their meagre supply of weapons and lights. Suddenly, from upstairs, the door rattled.
“What’s that?” said Jackson.
Christina looked up the stairs and the door rattled again, this time harder. She stood up. “We need to go, quickly.” She brought Caterina with her to the group. “Can we have a torch?”
Tom and Parker looked at each other. They held the only two torches. “Well, we’ve only got two and...”
“Tom, Parker, let me stop you right there,” said Christina. “Do you know where you’re going? No, but I do. I can lead us to the conference centre. It makes sense, you know it does. Plus, it would really help Cat here.”
Tom handed his torch to her.
“Tom, wait, come on, buddy,” said Brad.
“No, it’s all right. Christina can lead the way just as well as I can, if not better. I’ll go behind her, and with my free hand, I can carry something else. Like this,” he said holding the iron aloft.
Christina took the torch gratefully. “Thanks, I appreciate...”
There was a huge crash as the door to the steps swung open and into the wall. They heard shuffling noises above.
“Come on, time to move.” Benzo charged through the door, followed by the rest of the group. He held a frying pan above his he
ad, ready to smash anything in his way, hoping the dark car park was empty.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Philip jerked awake and dropped his glass of scotch on the floor. As the warm alcohol seeped into the carpet, he blinked his eyes and rubbed his head. Looking around the room, he realised it was daytime. The sun was streaming in through the windows. He scooped up the glass, and yawning, rubbed his hands over his bristly chin. What had woken him? There were noises coming from the stairwell: running footsteps, shouts, cries, and screams.
“What now?” he said and sighed. The sunlight had warmed the bar and he padded across the thick carpet to pour himself another scotch. As he did so, he heard a bang against the door to the stairwell.
“Who’s there?” he said. Leaving his drink on the granite bar, he walked over to the door. “Who’s there?” he said again. He listened but heard nothing. The footsteps and shouting were inaudible now. In the distance, he heard very faint noises, but nothing to worry him; the screaming had stopped.
As he stood with his hand on the door handle, a soft tapping came. It sounded like it was coming from the bottom of the door and Philip slowly pulled the door open, inch by careful inch. Kate’s body fell into the room.
“Kate? Oh God, Kate!” Philip instantly dropped to his knees and took her in his arms. Her eyes were looking at him, but she had lost a lot of blood. Her clothes were covered in it and she was cold.
“Philip,” she whispered. He dragged her into the room and the stairwell door closed. He lay on the floor with her, cradling his wife, holding her close.
“Kate, I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” he said.
She tried to speak, but he shushed her.
“Please, Kate, I’m sorry I was an arse before, but please, I love you. Oh, Kate, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”