by Russ Watts
“Philip...get out...quickly.” She choked and coughed up blood. Philip’s tears trickled down his face, dripping onto his wife’s as she died in his arms. He hugged her close to him as he felt her chest stop moving and he knew she was gone. He lay on the floor holding her for a while, as Kate’s body stiffened.
“I should’ve stayed with you.” Philip looked at his wife; she looked peaceful now. As he wiped the blood from her face, he felt her body tense. He looked down as her left arm began twitching.
“Kate? Kate?” He lay her down on the floor and stood over her as her whole body began to shudder back to life. He took a step backward as his wife opened her eyes. Her chest was still not moving.
“Kate! This isn’t funny!” he shouted at her and took another step back.
With a vacant look in her eyes, Kate turned toward him and her lips parted, showing bloody teeth. Her face turned into a sneer and she pushed herself up off the floor.
“No, not you, Kate. Come on...” Philip’s brain told his feet to run, and he whirled around reaching for the door as Kate charged at him.
Philip made it through the door just in time, slamming it behind him as Kate flew into it, trapped on the other side. He looked up and an old woman was staring at him. She looked like she had been in a car accident. Her white hair was covered in blood and her nose was missing. Philip knew she was dead, yet she was advancing toward him. Her arms and hands reached for him and he turned and fled downstairs.
* * * *
Christina shone her torch into the jaguar’s interior, illuminating the leather seats.
“No, I can’t see the keys anywhere,” she said. Caterina, Benzo, Reggie, and Jackson were stood beside her, peering in.
“None over here either,” shouted Parker. He was shining the other torch into a shiny black BMW. Jessica, Tom, and Brad were looking, but there were no keys anywhere.
“I didn’t think we would find anything,” said Tom. “Come on, we’ve got to get a move on.” He could hear shuffling noises from the passage they had left.
Slowly they re-joined each other and formed a chain with Christina in front and Parker at the rear. In the car park, it was cold, dark, and damp. Christina kept the torch pointed down at the floor, following the road markings to try and figure out where the exit was.
“You know, there are probably thousands of tonnes of water above us right now,” said Benzo quietly.
“Shut up, Benzo,” said Jackson. “We don’t need to know that, thank you...”
“I was just saying,” said Benzo in the gloom.
There was a jangling, clinking noise, and suddenly a small light shone out from the middle of the group.
“I just remembered, I’ve got a little light on my key ring,” said Caterina. “It was a present from my flatmates.”
They kept following Christina, weapons at the ready and listening for movement. The car park was quiet and it wasn’t long before the torches picked out a barrier. Christina shone the light up and down the red and white barrier.
“Be careful,” she said as they filed past it. Abruptly they stopped.
“What is it?” said Tom. “Why have we stopped?” He heard Christina curse and caught up with her.
“Oh shit,” he said when he saw what she was looking at.
Her light was pointed at a sign on the wall, inches in front of them. ‘No admittance.’ She shone her torch up and down, along the wall, looking for an exit.
“Where the hell is the exit?” she said.
“This is it,” said Tom. “Damn it.” The rest of the group all gathered around them.
“What’s the deal?” said Brad. “Where’s the tunnel? I thought you knew what you were doing?” he said to Christina.
“There’s a barrier across the road blocking the exit. Basically, we’re at the tunnel entrance and our way out is on the other side of this door.”
“Fucking awesome,” said Brad.
“It’s massive,” said Parker. “It must be a bloody thick door.”
“I suppose it has to be,” said Benzo. “It was probably built to protect the building from flooding, so it’s solid. I don’t think we can open it from here. The control would be back inside somewhere.” They spoke in hushed voices and Tom could hear the fear in them, including his own.
Suddenly, they heard footsteps in the car park and a dragging sound on the concrete. A slither of light shone into the underground park from the passage way behind them.
“Oh fuck, something’s in here with us,” said Jessica. Parker put his arm around her. He held his torch up shining it into the dark, trying to find whatever, or whoever had joined them.
“Oh, God, we’re going to get crucified down here,” said Caterina as she stood behind Christina.
“Just keep calm, everyone,” said Tom. He held a knife in one hand and the iron in the other. He felt faintly ridiculous but he was glad he had at least something to hold on to. The footsteps grew closer, but in the dark, they could not see exactly where they were coming from. Their flashlights picked out nothing but darkness.
“Keep your damn torch still!” Brad tried to grab it from Christina’s hand and the light danced erratically around, flashing across the floor and high ceiling.
“Stop it!” said Caterina, and she grabbed Brad’s arm. He pushed her away and she skidded across the damp concrete, falling over and dropping her small keyring. It flew out of her hands across the ground.
“Guys, for fuck’s sake, stop it and listen,” Tom said angrily. “Parker, shine your light on Caterina and help her, will you?”
Brad had hold of the torch now and Christina was nursing a sore wrist. Parker shone his light over at Caterina and Jackson went to help her to her feet.
“Hold on,” she said, getting up, “my light.” She bent down and picked up her keyring. Its pathetic beam of light picked out a pair of feet and Caterina felt goose bumps trickle down her spine. Lifting the light higher, she picked out a face. Jill stood two feet in front of Caterina.
“Argh!” Jill’s arms stretched out and grabbed Caterina’s coat. She screamed and Jackson joined the fight, trying to pull Jill off. The shouts and screams echoed around the underground vault, bouncing off the damp walls, drowning out Tom’s futile pleas for everyone to stay calm.
“Shine your light over there!” Parker handed his torch to Jessica and he and Tom raced to help Jackson. Tom pounded Jill’s head with the iron as best he could. Parker had taken the metal desk leg from Brad and was beating on Jill, raining her head with crunching blows. Jackson tumbled away and managed to yank Caterina with him. Caterina ran off into the darkness with Jackson chasing after her, as Tom and Parker beat Jill down to the ground.
Reggie and Christina turned away, unable to watch. Brad stared, keeping his torch pointed at Jill as her body was smashed to pieces.
“Holy shit, man, that was Jill,” said Benzo to Brad.
“It was,” came Brad’s reply.
With one final effort, Tom hammered the iron down onto Jill’s head, embedding it in her skull, and she lay still. The flex had uncoiled and lay around her like a chalk outline.
Footsteps suddenly approached Benzo and Brad, and they whirled around. Benzo lifted a pan above his head when Jackson appeared with Caterina in hand.
“Jesus, don’t creep up on us like that,” Benzo said, lowering the pan.
Christina took Caterina and held her, letting the girl’s tears flow, soaking her shirt.
“She bit?” Brad asked Jackson. He just shook his head. “What about you?”
Jackson grabbed Brad and pinned him back against the cool tunnel wall. His face was red and his eyes were bright. “No. Are you? No, you wouldn’t be, would you, because you did nothing. You’re a poor excuse for a human being, Brad.”
“Whatever, old man,” said Brad shoving Jackson off. “Still think we don’t need a gun?”
Christina looked at Brad with hatred. “Just leave us alone.”
“Hey, Tom, you all right, buddy?”
Tom nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Exhausted, Parker went back over to Jessica. He felt sick.
“We have to get out of here,” said Jessica. “If we stay here, we’re dead.” She kissed him on the cheek and then began waving her hands over her head. With the torch in one hand, it was like being under a strobe light.
“Open the door! Open it! Please, open the door!” she called out.
“What are you doing?” said Parker. “We need to be quiet.” He tried to stop her waving, but she shrugged him off.
“He’s in there, I know he is. He’s watching us. Only he can open these doors.”
“Jessica, I...”
“Parker, I know it. Those thumping noises we passed on the way here? That was the security team’s locker room. I’m betting one of them is in there, trying to get into the control room. Which means Ranjit is still in there! He’s got all the power now. He can open these doors. It was him that locked us in. I’m not going back in there. I just hope he’s watching us now.”
Parker watched as Jessica continued waving her arms above her head, shouting and pleading for the doors to be opened. He looked up and in the corner was a tiny blinking red light on a camera. Parker winced, ignoring the pain in his arm, and began waving for help too.
* * * *
Ranjit smashed the frame on the floor and ripped the photo of his wife out. He stuffed it into his pocket and said a small prayer. He couldn’t believe what was happening. He had seen the group on sixteen practically wiped out. He had witnessed everything. He was scared.
The sixteenth floor was on fire now. Blondey had burnt away in the end to nothing, but some of the zombies had escaped and were working their way down the stairwell. If he stayed here, he would be trapped or burnt alive. There was nothing left to lose now and he had to think how to get past Stu and back to Keti.
It was a crude plan, but it was all he had. He had seen the others go down to the car park and guessed they were heading for the tunnel. Since they had gone down there, he had busied himself. If they got down the tunnel without him, he would have to go on his own and he did not like the idea of being down there alone. He spent the last three days on his own with nothing but the thumping and groaning of Stu for company. Plus, he couldn’t let them leave like this; they didn’t know who was in their midst or how dangerous he was.
Ranjit put his jacket on and drew in a large breath. He grabbed the top drawer of the filing cabinet and yanked it all the way out. It was full of heavy paper and he let it slam down onto the floor. Then he dragged it over to the door to the locker room and left it a foot in front of the doorway. He went back and pulled open the next drawer, pulling out the paper and files. When it was empty, he took it and put it next to the full one on the floor. The smell now was sickening; he had used the bottom drawer as a toilet for three days now.
Despite the foul stench in the air, Ranjit’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten at all today, having run out of food last night. If he didn’t try to escape now, he may as well roll over and die. He couldn’t leave Keti, he was all she had.
“I’m coming, Keti, I’m coming. Stay strong, honey,” he said as he filled up his briefcase. He grabbed the first aid kit from the wall and put it in his case alongside one last can of coke he had saved. From the supply cupboard, he took four torches and some matches. There was an empty shelf where there should’ve been a set of Tasers. He plagued his boss for months that they should get them, but it was deemed excessive and ‘not an appropriate use of resources.’ He knew they were blowing him off, because they didn’t want to part with the cash.
With his briefcase packed, he checked the monitors in the stairwell; the dead were getting closer. One was already down to the tenth floor and there were several behind it. Suddenly, a figure burst out into the stairwell, a man. The man looked up at the zombie and ran downstairs, heading to the foyer.
“What the hell?” said Ranjit. He turned to the other monitors and took one last look at his building. In a minute, he was going to have to unlock the system and when he did, every door’s lock would be overridden. The door to the locker room would open and Stu would come in, leaving him with a chance to escape. Unfortunately, that would mean the foyer doors would open and a thousand zombies would poor in.
Ranjit watched as the strange figure from ten raced down the steps to the foyer. The man stopped unaware of where to go or what to do next. Ranjit reached to turn the monitors off when he saw a figure looking straight at the camera. The picture was faint and he could just make out two, no three, figures now, waving at him. Wherever they were, it was dark and the picture was not clear. He zoomed in and recognised Jessica. It was the car park, but why hadn’t they left? Why had they...the tunnel doors! Ranjit realised why they were still underground; they were stuck there.
When the system was shut down and the building was sealed in an event such as a terrorist threat, the tunnel was sealed off too. He had forgotten about the tunnel door. Jessica was saying something but he couldn’t make it out. He didn’t need to hear, he knew what they wanted: out. He had to open the doors for them.
Ranjit picked up the empty drawer from the floor and held it, standing behind the door. When it swung open, he would only have a second. Stu would rush in and hopefully trip over the heavy files Ranjit had left on the floor. A swift knock to the head with the empty drawer he held, and Ranjit would run. He hadn’t run in years, but today he would have to start again. He would run to the car park and catch the others up in the tunnel.
He prepared himself and leant over to the control desk, his hand hovering above the release button. There would be no going back. When he hit the button, it would all be over and his refuge would be gone. The building would be infested with the infected.
Ranjit looked at the monitors; there was Jessica shouting for him to open the tunnel door. On the other screen was Philip, standing in the foyer, in front of the huge glass doors, confronted with a never-ending sea of zombies and not knowing where to run.
“Sorry, mate,” said Ranjit. He hit the release button.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Philip was rooted to the spot. Outside in the city plaza, on the streets where he and Kate had walked to work for the past six months, were the dead. He couldn’t imagine, much less count their number. From where he was to the Akuma building, to the stock exchange on the other side and the tube station across the square, they rocked and swayed in their thousands.
He contemplated going back upstairs, but knew it was futile. They were up there. Where could he run to now? He pictured Kate coming down the stairs to kill him and tried to rub the image from his mind. He had treated her like shit lately. Now she was dead, and he couldn’t take that back.
There was a clicking sound coming from the foyer doors that lasted a few seconds and then a grinding noise as the hidden motors sprang into action. Philip watched in disbelief as the huge glass doors began to part. They slid back, releasing the zombies who flooded into the foyer, running and sprinting toward him. A smell of rotting meat and decay wafted over him and Philip pissed his pants where he stood.
He ran to the nearest door to him, behind the reception desk, and pulled it open. The first zombie jumped on his back as he fell through the doorway to the floor. A man dug his nails into Philip as they struggled.
“Get off, get off!” Philip threw the man off, wiping his face where the dead man had scratched him. He tried to get up to run but another zombie pulled him down. Philip felt fingers clawing at his legs and back and in the confines of the corridor, he could not get away. He felt teeth sink into his calves and sharp fingernails gouge at his back and neck. He tried to stand, but the weight was too much for him as more and more zombies piled through the door. Philip was buried beneath the dead and before long, he was dead too, carved open
by a thousand teeth. Although he became infected, there was nothing left of him to reanimate. The zombies tore him from limb to limb, pulling his insides out and devouring them, eating his alcohol soaked liver, wrenching his guts out as he drifted into painful death.
With Philip dead, the zombies continued their thirst for flesh and began scouring the building. They poured in through the foyer and soon found the stairwell. Karl, Troy, and Jenny met them on the stairs and inadvertently joined the mob. They were pushed along onto the second floor, swept out onto the terrace where they remained until their diseased bodies were burnt along with the rest of Fiscal Industries.
More zombies continued climbing upward in their ultimately pointless quest. There was to be no feeding up there today.
Michelle had taken a beating on the sixteenth floor and her body lay in the burning office where she had conceived one late drunken Friday night. Karl had sliced her throat before he too had been killed, and the living had escaped. Her body had been mutilated and beaten so badly that she had not had enough energy to move. Two more bodies had fallen on top of her and for a while, she could sense nothing.
A dog, a thick muscular Stafford, long ago infected and killed by its petrified owner with a brick to the head, found its way up to her and cast aside the meat laying over her. It pawed at her stomach. It knew she was not alive, yet something in her stirred its curiosity and it used its powerful jaws to eat its way through her belly. Michelle did not move while the dog ate though her innards. It soon found the unborn baby in her womb and consumed it almost whole. It was the nearest thing to living flesh it had found and served only to inflame its cravings. A tiny unformed hand stuck out from the dog’s teeth, caught between its incisors, as it left her. Released by the dog, the weight of the dead no longer upon her, Michelle’s body began to judder, and she hauled herself to her feet.
Some of the other zombies, having followed Philip, began wandering through the corridors and empty rooms. Now that they were unlocked, there was a lot to explore; both upstairs and down.