Demise of the Living

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Demise of the Living Page 21

by Iain McKinnon


  “How’s about you watch what you’re doing with them?” Billy protested.

  “Steady on—they’re not going to break,” Thomas replied.

  “I wasn’t worried about that. They might go off.”

  “They’re not going to go off; the safeties are on!”

  “I don’t know that, now do I?!”

  “And you didn’t think I have the brains to think about that.” Thomas tapped a finger against his head.

  Billy folded his arms over. “No, I didn’t; you’ve done nothing to prove otherwise.”

  "What happened to you?" Colin asked, pointing at Thomas’ face.

  Thomas was too focused on his argument with Billy to hear Colin.

  “What happened to your face?” Colin asked forcefully.

  There was a long scratch down the side of his cheek, the brown scrape still fresh on the puffy red skin. Thomas’ hand automatically went up to touch it.

  “Did one of those things scratch you yesterday?” Colin asked.

  “Oh, that. I slipped up on the roof last night. Must have done it on some gravel or something,” Thomas said.

  Colin looked at Billy for confirmation.

  “Yeah?” Billy shook his head, leaning in to examine it more closely.

  “You were with me all day yesterday, Billy. I haven’t been infected,” Thomas said.

  “Nah, he’s good,” Billy said. “I don’t remember seeing that yesterday. It must have happened last night sometime.”

  “Thank you,” Thomas said sarcastically. “Now are you coming to help? There’s still a good few trips worth of kit out there.”

  “Sure, but as I was saying, I think Colin’s made a good point about securing the place,” Billy said, getting the conversation back on track.

  “We should maybe think about fortifying the stairwells,” Colin suggested.

  “Maybe leave a couple of guns by the barricades just in case they do break in,” Billy offered.

  “Why don’t we just get a gun each?” Sharon asked.

  “Only five guns,” Thomas answered.

  “Well, the girls won’t get one, and Billy already has his shotgun,” Sharon said.

  “We’re still short. Or do you propose we bid for them like those sandwiches?” Thomas mocked.

  “We’re only three short,” Sharon argued. “Those cleaner girls are never around to help out; I mean, where are they now? And it’ll be more hassle than it’s worth trying to explain things to them. If something did happen and they had a gun, it would take too long to explain what it is you want done. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Still leaves one gun short,” Colin said.

  “Maybe someone won’t want one on principle or something,” Sharon said off-the-cuff.

  “I’d want one of those automatics.” Billy said.

  “Don’t be greedy. You’ve already got a gun,” John said.

  “I’ve only got two cartridges left for it.”

  Thomas turned to the ageing biker. “Two cartridges?”

  “Yep. Two cartridges.”

  “We went out there among those things and you only had two shots?”

  “Yep,” Billy replied.

  “You only had two shots?!”

  “Worked out fine,” Billy said. “We came back with both of them.”

  “Look, would you two children stop bickering?” Sharon interjected.

  Both Billy and Thomas cast looks at each other, but kept silent.

  “Why are we doing all this?” John asked.

  “Doing what?” Sharon asked.

  “All this cataloguing. What about just driving out of here?”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Colin said.

  “Why not?” John said in a challenging tone.

  Billy scowled and shook his head. “For starters, we’d have a hard time getting out of the alleyway. Thomas and I blocked the entrances north and south. We’d have to haul the refuse bins out of the way before we could get out and they’re pressed up tight as it is. No way you’d get them open without losing a man, and even then you wouldn’t get enough of a run up to smash through them.” He battered his fist into his open palm for emphasis.

  “And whose fault is that?” John accused.

  “We had to block it,” Billy explained. “Otherwise they’d have followed us down that alleyway and be pressed up against the fences right now.”

  “Yeah, and again: whose fault is it that there’s a million of those dead fucks outside?” John spat.

  “We had to go get food,” Colin said.

  “Where would we go?” Liz asked from her spot on the floor.

  Everyone looked over to her, surprised by her sudden entry into the conversation.

  “Where is there?” Liz asked. “Where is there more secure than here?”

  “Good point, Liz,” Sharon said. “We’d be launching ourselves into the unknown. Besides, I thought we covered all this yesterday. There’s no point going over dead ground.”

  “So we’re in agreement,” Colin said. “We should look at setting up barricades.”

  “I think we should get this lot up to the first floor and make camp there, as it were,” Sharon suggested.

  “There are camp beds and sleeping bags—even tents if you want to set them up for a bit of privacy,” Colin proposed. “We can live quite comfortably up there with a bit of organisation.”

  “Okay, it’s settled,” Sharon said. “Thomas, would you put the power back on so we can use the elevator?”

  “We’ve used up a lot of fuel keeping it running yesterday. I’d guess we only have maybe twenty, twenty-two hours of power left.”

  “We don’t know when that glass will break. I think it’s prudent to get this stuff upstairs. Get it secured and quickly,” Sharon replied.

  ***

  Karen stood up to shake off the numbness in her legs.

  “You okay?” Liz asked.

  “Yeah, just need a stretch,” Karen said.

  The last of the supplies had been brought up to the first floor office. Liz, Melissa, and Karen had spent the best part of two hours sorting through their bounty. The food they had first segregated into type. Bags of flour, pasta, canned meat, canned vegetables, canned fruit and so on were put into piles or stacks together. Once that had been done, they had started on the camping equipment. Here Liz had split up the supplies into eleven piles, each with an identical inventory.

  “You both look like you could do with a break,” Liz said, looking at the two girls. Melissa was about three years younger than Karen, but the two girls were an age apart in maturity. “Why don’t you take the dog up on the roof for a bit of exercise?”

  “Sure,” Karen said.

  “Yes, please,” Melissa said. She stood and called, “Blow!”

  The squat little dog bounded to her feet from where she had been dozing.

  “Come on, girl,” Melissa encouraged.

  The dog trotted along beside her as she opened the door to the stairwell.

  “You girls be careful up there,” Liz said. “I don’t want you going too near the edge.”

  “Coming through!” Billy called out as the two girls entered the hallway.

  Mo and Billy were carrying a cupboard down the stairs; Billy, the taller of the two men, in the lead, and Mo at the back.

  At the top of the first floor landing there was now a selection of office furniture. A photocopier, some filing cabinets, cupboards, and a selection of desks.

  Billy was sweating rivers and looking red-cheeked as he shuffled past.

  “Okay, down,” he instructed and they set the latest addition to their defences on its end.

  A voice called out from the ground floor, echoing up the stairwell.

  “Billy, you up there?” Sharon asked.

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  “Have you seen the girls?”

  “Yeah, they’re right here.”

  Sharon trotted up to the landing halfway between the floors.

&
nbsp; “No, the Polish girls, Magda and Alex,” she said, looking at Karen and Melissa.

  “All right, you can squeeze by now,” Billy said to the two girls. He turned to Sharon and shook his head. “Nah, haven’t seen them.” He looked round at Mo, but Mo just shook his head, too.

  “I’ve not seen them all morning,” Sharon said.

  “Have you tried the plant room where Thomas hides?” Billy asked.

  “Yes, I’ve just been there. I was going to try the roof. I know they’ve been going up there to smoke.”

  “We’re just going up there. We could look for them,” Melissa offered.

  “Would you? The toilet is almost out of paper, but the dispenser thing needs a key to open it. Can you ask one of them to come down and refill it?”

  “Okay,” Melissa agreed.

  The two girls took off bounding up the stairs. Sensing a change in pace, the dog bolted up the steps.

  “Blow!” Melissa shouted, but the dog didn’t look back.

  Her stubby legs were slightly too short to take two stairs at once. Instead she pelted up in a half-skipping gait, taking two stairs, then one, then two stairs, then one as she went.

  Melissa and Karen giggled and gave chase.

  When they reached the top, the dog was already at the short parapet around the roof’s edge. Her front paws on the lip, she barked at the hazy sky.

  “Blow, come back from there,” Melissa scolded. She stepped up behind the dog and pulled her back down. She pointed off at a metal Christmas tree-like array of antennas. “Now go do your business.”

  Karen spotted something by the edge. She walked over and picked up the bottle of champagne. She held it up to the light and swirled it from the neck. Disappointingly, it was empty. She let it slip from her hand and fall to the gravel. It hit the roof with a crunch, but didn't break. Just behind where it laid, Karen spotted a bashed packet of cigarettes. She picked it up and gave it a shake. Something rattled inside. Flipping the lid open, she saw a lighter and half a dozen cigarettes.

  “Nice,” she said.

  “What you got there?” Melissa asked.

  Karen slipped a cigarette between her lips and lit it. She took a long, satisfying draw.

  “You’re not allowed to,” Melissa protested.

  Karen blew out a lungful of smoke.

  “I’m telling,” Melissa said.

  “Who you going to tell?” Karen said, sitting down on the edge of the roof. “Your mother? My mother?”

  Melissa looked deflated. “You’re not supposed to smoke. It’s bad for you.”

  “Lots of things are bad for you. Don’t suppose it matters much now, though,” Karen said. She picked up the champagne bottle by the neck. She pointed out a shambling woman on the street below. “Bet I can hit that one down there with the red jacket.”

  “Don’t,” Melissa said.

  Karen leaned back, holding the bottle like a stick grenade.

  “Don’t. It’s not nice,” Melissa said.

  “Oh, come on,” Karen cajoled.

  Melissa turned her back, not willing to watch.

  Karen ignored her. She whipped her arm round and tossed the bottle off the side of the building.

  The throw was nowhere near powerful enough. The bottle sailed through the air a moment before arcing down to fall short of its target.

  Melissa heard the glass shatter and turned round to see where it had landed. She leaned on the low wall around the roof and peered over. The bottle had found a clear patch of road and exploded on impact. A clutch of zombies heard the noise and were now converging on the spot, searching for the cause of the sound.

  “Meant to miss,” Karen lied.

  “What are they doing?” Melissa asked, watching the throng below.

  Karen sat down on the parapet, one leg on the roof, the other dangling over the edge. She said, “Don’t know. Looking for someone to eat, I guess.”

  “Don’t do that,” Melissa chastised.

  “Do what?” Karen asked. She exhaled, blowing smoke in Melissa’s direction, but the wind whipped it away before it got near her.

  “Sit on the edge like that. It’s dangerous.”

  “Pussy,” Karen said, puffing at the cigarette.

  “Do you think they’re hungry?” Melissa asked.

  “Don’t know. Maybe they’re just, like, pissed off and wanting to start something.”

  “Are they really dead?”

  “How should I know?” Karen replied. “I’m not a scientist or a doctor. I flunked biology.”

  “If they are dead, why are they still walking around? I saw my grandmother in the coffin when she was dead. She didn’t look like…” Melissa paused for a few seconds. Then she said flatly, “My brother’s one of them.”

  Karen sucked in another lungful of smoke.

  “Do you think they could cure it?” Melissa asked.

  Karen shook her head. “How the fuck would I know?”

  Melissa stared over the edge to the throng below. “No one’s talking about it. They’re just ignoring it. He might be an annoying brat, but I don’t want my brother to be like that.”

  Karen grabbed Melissa by the shoulder and shook her.

  Melissa screamed.

  “Don’t fall over!” Karen laughed.

  “That wasn’t funny!” Melissa cried, stepping back from the edge.

  Karen shrugged it off. “I was just messing with you.”

  “I’m telling on you!” Melissa said as she stormed off.

  “Aw, don’t do that, Melissa. I was just kidding about.”

  Melissa didn’t change her stride. She marched over the crunching stones to the access door.

  Karen’s heart sank. “I’m sorry, Melissa. Please. I won’t do it again.”

  She knew she’d upset the girl and she just hadn’t thought about how she would react.

  She turned round and looked over the edge to where the bottle had smashed.

  “Melissa!” she shouted.

  “I’m not talking to you!” Melissa barked back.

  “No, Melissa,” Karen said, her voice trembling. “You have to see this!”

  Chapter 15

  Firing Line

  “You’re sure you’ve looked everywhere?” Sharon asked.

  “The whole building and the cars in the parking lot,” Mo said. “They’re nowhere to be found.”

  “Could they be hiding?” Colin asked.

  “Why would they be hiding?” John said.

  “It was her,” Karen said softly.

  “I don’t know, but it’s a big building,” Colin said. “I’m sure someone who knew the place could avoid being found. I mean, they could hide in the air ducts or something.”

  “That’s plain ignorant,” Thomas said. “Ducts aren’t like in the movies, all well-lit and easy to crawl through. You’d cut yourself up on rivets and rough seams. The ducts in this place would maybe fit a little girl like her.” He pointed at Melissa. “Two grown women? No way.”

  “It was her down there,” Karen said.

  “You can’t be sure of that; you hardly even met her,” Sharon said. “Who was the last to see them?”

  “Remember, we saw Magda and Alex leave with Thomas with that stolen bottle of champagne,” John said.

  “Stolen? We took a bottle between the three of us. I think that was fair shares,” Thomas said.

  “You were the last one to see them, Thomas. Did they say anything to you?” Liz asked.

  “Um, no, but you know what they were like. They hardly spoke a word of English just jabbering between themselves.”

  “There! Look!” Karen said, pointing at the crowd of zombies below.

  “I don’t see anything,” Billy said.

  Colin shifted uneasily.“ This morning I looked out of the window before I came down for breakfast. There was a bunch of them with darker faces, like dried blood. Now that I think of it, I think I saw one with some of Magda’s shirt in its mouth.”

  “That's her!” Liz screamed.<
br />
  For a few moments everyone went silent. There, crawling among the throng of walking dead, was a flash of the yellow- and red-striped shirt. Magda was pulling herself along on mangled legs. Chunks of her top were missing, raw flesh gnawed away to display sickeningly yellow bone.

  “Oh, God,” Sharon uttered, breaking the silence.

  “Poor girl,” Colin said.

  “Where’s Alex?” Thomas asked.

  “They were inseparable,” Mo pointed out.

  Billy backed away from the edge.

  “She must be down there, too,” John reasoned.

  “What do you reckon?” Thomas asked. “Did they decide to... well…end it?”

  “She didn’t do a very good job then,” Karen said.

  “Karen!” Liz snapped. “That’s awful.”

  “But true,” Karen replied. “She’s crawling around down there. Doesn’t seem like she’s much better off.”

  “Christ, if there is a cure for this, I don’t think it’ll do her much good,” Thomas said.

  “I feel sick,” Sharon confessed, moving away from the roof’s edge.

  “Thomas, you were the last to speak to them,” John said. “Did they seem... you know…okay?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know,” Thomas replied, a note of hesitation in his voice.

  “What were the three of you doing up here?” John asked.

  “We drank. We polished off a bottle of champagne, smoked a few ciggies, had a laugh. You know,” Thomas said defensively.

  “No, we don’t know, Thomas,” Colin said.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Thomas said. “I don’t speak Polish; I can’t say what they were thinking.”

  “Would you have done anything to upset them?” Colin asked, pointing at the scratch down Thomas’ face.

  Thomas touched the mark without thinking. “This? I told you I slipped on the gravel on the way back to the access door. I didn’t even notice it at the time.”

  “So were they still up here when you left?” Liz asked.

  “Yeah,” Thomas said.

  “Why did you leave?” Colin asked.

  “I don’t know. The drink had run dry and so had the conversation—what little there was. Are you accusing me of something here?”

 

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