Demise of the Living

by Iain McKinnon

  Softly, she walked across to her own tent. It was late and the last couple of hours had been exhausting. She knew she should slip into her sleeping bag and get some rest, but her mind was still whirring around. Everything and nothing assaulted her thoughts. Would they be safe now that the foyer was breached? What had killed John? How long would the food last? Would she survive all this or go the same way as Stephen, Mo, or Thomas?

  She bent down and unzipped her tent. She may not feel like sleeping, but there was little else to be done.

  Something struck her. A sound. Not a familiar one—not the soft breathing in the adjacent tents or the moans of the dead outside. Something else.

  She stood up straight and listened. Someone was shouting. She looked up at the ceiling tiles. Colin and Billy would be on the roof by now with Stephen’s dead body, but there was no way she’d be able to hear them from down here.

  Casting around the office, she tried to home in on the sound. Getting closer to the back windows, the noise became louder. It was a man’s voice calling out. She got to the window and opened it and the sound jumped in volume.

  “Thomas?” Sharon called out into the darkness.

  “Sharon!” came the reply.

  “Where are you?”

  “Sitting against the loading bay doors.”

  “Are you okay? We thought you’d been killed. Is Mo with you?”

  “I’m okay, mainly,” Thomas said. “I’ve pulled a ligament in my leg or something like that, but apart from that I’m fine.”

  Sharon could hear some light coughing and the sound of a tent being unzipped.

  “And Mo?” Sharon asked.

  “No. He didn’t make it,” Thomas answered. “The driver of the car—he got past me up the stairs—is he there?”

  “It was Stephen. We got him,” Sharon said.

  “It’s his fault Mo’s dead. He crashed straight into him,” Thomas said, omitting his part in Mo’s demise.

  “Don’t worry about that. He’s dead. He was infected.”

  “What’s going on?” Liz asked, walking up and standing next to Sharon.

  “Thomas is okay. He’s in the car park,” Sharon explained.

  “Oh,” Liz said apathetically.

  “Is there anything down there you can use to climb up?” Sharon asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s pitch dark and I can’t move away from the door,” Thomas said.

  “Why not?” Sharon asked.

  “It’s the fire exit. I’m up against it. If I move away, they’ll come pouring through the door,” Thomas explained. “Are there any door wedges up there?”

  “I don’t know,” Sharon said. “I’ll go look.”

  Sharon turned and picking up a lantern, she started looking for something to wedge the door shut.

  “Why not just leave him there?” Liz asked.

  Sharon was sweeping the lantern from left to right, scouring the office for something to use as a wedge.

  “Why not just leave him down there?” Liz asked again.

  “We can’t do that,” Sharon said, brushing off the comment. “Ah, this might work!”

  She picked up a hole punch from a desk and examined it.

  She held it out to Liz and asked, “Do you think this will do the job?”

  Liz grabbed the punch and threw it across the room. It landed with a crash somewhere in the darkness.

  “You’re not listening to me.” Liz said.

  “I am. You want to leave Thomas out there,” Sharon replied.

  “He attacked you and he sexually assaulted Karen,” Liz said. “And you want to bring him back into the fold?”

  The office door swung open and Billy and Colin entered.

  Colin immediately sensed the pressure in the room.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Thomas is outside in the parking lot,” Liz said.

  “He survived?”

  “Stick your head out of the window and speak to him if you like,” Liz added.

  “Liz here says we should leave him outside,” Sharon said.

  “I’d be happy with that,” Billy replied.

  “We can’t just leave him down there,” Sharon protested.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not right,” Sharon said, lost for anything else.

  “Ma, what’s happening?” Melissa asked, rubbing her eyes as she climbed out of her tent.

  “It’s nothing, dear. Just go back to sleep,” Liz urged.

  “No chance of that with the noise you’re making,” came Karen’s voice from inside her tent.

  Colin blurted out a stream of questions: “Is he hurt? Is he infected? Is Mo there?”

  “He said Stephen ran Mo over, but he didn’t say if he was bitten,” Sharon answered.

  “It might be safer just to leave him out there in case he is bit,” Billy suggested.

  “The poor guy’s sitting up against the fire door to keep them out,” Sharon said.

  “Why are you so keen all of a sudden to save him?” Billy asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sharon said, sitting down on a desk. “He’s a member of my staff... the last member of my staff. I’m used to making big decisions. Decisions that cost millions, decisions that change the company’s fortunes that cost people their livelihoods. But not ones that cost people’s lives.” She stood up and looked out over the car park. “Sure, he’s a dick; self-centered, moronic—immoral, even. But when did we become judge, jury, and executioner?”

  “He tried to touch me up!” Karen called out from behind the thin skin of her tent. “For all I care he can rot out there.”

  “She’s got a point,” Liz said. “Are we safer with him out the way?”

  “There are more of them out there than there are of us in here,” Sharon said. “I don’t think we have the luxury of turning on ourselves.”

  “Christ, a minute ago we thought he was dead and none of you were upset by that thought,” Billy pointed out.

  “Okay, so you don’t want to leave Thomas out there,” Colin said. “I see your point, but what if he’s infected?”

  “And what if he stops holding the door shut?” Billy asked.

  “Those things will get into the car park,” Liz answered.

  “And if we have to get out of here, a parking lot full of those things will make it impossible to get to the cars,” Billy added.

  “What if he decides to do that anyway?” Sharon asked. “What if he takes a car and makes a run for it?”

  “He’ll never clear the alleyway on his own,” Colin pointed out.

  “What if he tries? He’ll take the gate down, knock the refuse bins out of the way. Doesn’t matter if he succeeds or not, the end result is the same. We get a parking lot full of those things and no way to escape.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Colin admitted. “We’re safer letting him back in.”

  “Still, there’s no rush,” Billy added.

  ***

  Thomas sat with his back to the door. He had felt out as far is he dared without letting up on the pressure. He knew there was a triangle of wood around here somewhere; he had often used it to wedge the door open when he’d gone for a fly cigarette.

  He patted himself down, looking for his lighter and cigarettes.

  “Bugger,” he said, remembering they were sitting in the plant room.

  “Here,” said a masculine voice from above.

  Thomas looked up, and from the faint light of the lanterns in the office he saw an undulating black shape tumbling towards him. The object hit him with no force at all. It merely collapsed around him, draping him in fabric.

  He pulled the material from his head and felt its thick, soft folds. It was a sleeping bag.

  “Ha-ha, very funny!” Thomas shouted.

  “No joke, Tommy-boy,” Billy said. “You’re safe for now and it’s too dark to go fannying about. It doesn’t feel like rain, so I’m sure you’ll be fine to camp out under the stars for once.”

  “Okay, j
oke’s over! Come on and help me!”

  “No joke,” Colin said. “See you in the morning.”

  Thomas roared, “You fucking cunts! I’ll fucking kill you!”

  He heard the office window lock shut.

  Friday

  Chapter 18

  Demise

  Puffing like a steam train, Thomas flopped onto the floor of the office.

  “You made a meal out of that one,” Billy chastised.

  “Let’s see how you fare after a night on concrete, wedging a door shut,” Thomas replied.

  “There was no way you could have managed that in the dark, anyway,” Colin added.

  “Yeah, well, you could have tried,” Thomas said, getting to his feet.

  “What’s this, anyway?” Colin asked, picking up the heavy bag that Thomas had clambered up with.

  “Car stereo,” Thomas answered.

  “Not going to make much stealing car radios in this economy,” Billy laughed.

  “It’s for the radio. I didn’t get any signal in the parking lot, so I dismantled the radio, whipped out the battery, scored some wiring from the electrics. Reckon I can fix up an antenna and we could listen for radio broadcasts.”

  “You got the tools to do the job now the plant room’s off limits?” Billy asked.

  “All in the bag. Thieved the tool kit from the people carrier,” Thomas said.

  “Not a bad idea,” Colin said.

  “Yeah, well, I had all night to think about it. I’m choking for a cigarette,” Thomas said, looking over at Liz.

  Liz looked blankly at Thomas.

  “Don’t think I don’t know your game,” Thomas said.

  “What?” Liz said.

  “You took your cut of the smokes, but I haven’t seen you take a single one. You’re playing it smart; you’re saving them to barter with.”

  “Why don’t you smoke your own?” Liz replied.

  “Cause they’re down in the plant room.”

  “What about the cigarettes Magda and Alex took?” Sharon asked. “They’ve got to still be around here.”

  “They’re down in the plant room, too,” Thomas admitted.

  “So you stole the cleaner’s cigarettes and now you want mine, too?” Liz asked.

  “Look, Liz, I’m not in the mood for it. Now you either spot me a smoke or you watch me get even more cranky from nicotine withdrawal. What will it be?”

  “Here,” Billy offered, holding out an open packet.

  Thomas pulled a solitary cigarette and tucked it behind his ear.

  “Thanks,” he said before turning and heading for the supply crates. “I’m starving. What’s for breakfast?”

  “We’ve all had some crackers with cheese,” Sharon answered.

  “I saw some beans and sausages the other day,” Thomas said, opening one of the crates and peering in.

  “We’re rationing supplies,” Colin said.

  “I know, but it strikes me we’re a man down, so there’s more to go around.”

  “We’re two men down, as you euphemistically put it,” Sharon corrected.

  Thomas stopped and looked around.

  “John?” he asked.

  Sharon nodded.

  “What happened? Was it Stephen?” he asked.

  “No,” Sharon said. “He went to the bathroom sick and by the time we’d finished with Stephen…well, he was dead.”

  “How? What did he die of?”

  “We don’t know,” Colin said. “We thought he might have been infected, but he never got back up.”

  “Food poisoning, then?” Thomas asked. “Cause if it was, we’ve all eaten the same food.”

  “Food poisoning doesn’t act that fast,” Sharon said. “It takes a day to two weeks for the symptoms to arise.”

  “How do you know that? You some kind of nurse or something?”

  “I took a waitressing job while I was at university. I did a food hygiene course as part of my training.”

  “Then what killed him?” Thomas asked.

  “"Damned if we know,” Billy said. “Could have been anything. He wasn’t the fittest of people. Heart attack, aneurysm, stroke—take your pick.”

  “Okay, so how do we stand since last night?” Thomas asked.

  “The stairwell doors on the ground floor are holding fine, but we’ve put the barricades into action just in case,” Colin said.

  “The power’s out, so no lights or electricity,” Sharon said.

  “That’s a good thing,” Thomas added.

  “Why?” Sharon asked.

  “If the power were on, the lift would still work,” Billy said. “Those fuckers would have pressed against a button and the next thing we know would be when the doors pinged open."

  “That’s not an issue,” Thomas said. “I could have locked the elevator out.”

  “If you’d been up here,” Liz pointed out.

  “If you’d have bothered to help me back in,” Thomas said, limping off in the direction of the crates.

  “Where are you going?” Billy asked.

  “To get some beans and some painkillers.”

  Sharon placed a hand on Billy’s arm.

  “Leave it,” she said softly.

  Billy looked at Colin for some support, but he could tell from his friend’s expression that he’d already sided with Sharon and gone for the path of least resistance.

  ***

  Screams echoed around the office, high-pitched and shrill. Billy came bounding across the camp to see Karen and Melissa tussling with each other. The little dog was yapping excitedly at Melissa’s ankles.

  “Hold on there!” Billy ordered.

  Only the dog appeared to pay Billy any attention. The two girls ignored him, forcing him to step in between them to break up the fight.

  “What’s going on?” Liz demanded, joining the fracas.

  Melissa cried, “Karen hit me!”

  “Did you hit her?!” Liz barked.

  “No,” Karen protested. “It was just a tap on the arm.”

  Liz hurriedly rolled up Melissa’s sleeve. On her soft skin was the faintest of red marks. In a few moments it would be indistinguishable. But it was obviously a punch mark.

  “Why did you hit her?” Liz asked. Her years of being a parent had taught her that neither side was ever completely innocent.

  “Cause she’s a dif,” Karen replied.

  “A what?” Liz asked.

  “Am not!” Melissa protested.

  “A dif,” Karen huffed. “A mentally deficient.”

  “Why would you call her that?” Liz demanded.

  “Ask her where the gamer is,” Karen said.

  Melissa’s sobs abated somewhat, but she didn’t answer.

  “Where’s the game, Melissa?” Liz asked.

  “It’s upstairs,” she answered.

  Sensing the half-truth, Liz pressed, “Where upstairs?”

  “With Grant,” Melissa said.

  “See?” Karen said triumphantly.

  “You be quiet!” Liz snapped at the teen. She turned to Melissa. “Why is it with Grant?”

  “I thought he might be bored up there on his own. I thought it might calm him down,” Melissa said.

  Liz shook her head. “Christ.”

  “I told you she was a dif,” Karen said.

  “Get out of my sight!” Liz barked at her.

  Karen let her jaw fall slack in a look of disdain.

  “Go!” Liz shouted, pointing to the doors.

  “Come on, lady,” Billy said to Karen.

  With a huff, Karen turned and was ushered off by the gruff biker.

  Liz looked into Melissa’s teary eyes. She dropped to her knees and pulled her in close. Melissa had grown. Kneeling in front of her, she was now a good four inches taller than her. Melissa bent her head down and wrapped her arms around her mother. She may be growing up, but she hadn't grown away from needing her mother to comfort her.

  Liz tried to think what she should say to her daughter, but there w
as nothing.

  “The two of you used to fight like cats and dogs,” she finally said. “Now you’re trying to look after him.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Melissa said.

  “I know, and you meant well by it,” Liz said, brushing the hair way from her daughter’s face.

  “Then why did Karen get so mad?” Melissa asked.

  “She’s scared, just like the rest of us. She’s scared and angry at being here.”

  “Will Grant get better?” Melissa asked.

  “No,” Liz said. “I don’t think he will.”

  “Will we end up like him?”

  Liz held her daughter’s hands in her own and shook her head.

  "No, baby, we won’t. I promise.”

  ***

  “So what was that about?” Billy asked.

  “The stupid little dif gave the games hand-held to her dead brother,” Karen huffed.

  “Aren’t you a bit old for playing games?”

  “I’m bored.”

  “So you thought you’d start a fight with a little girl, eh?”

  “Nah,” Karen sneered.

  “We need to find something to do. Something productive," Billy said. He pointed up the stairwell towards the roof. “Up there.”

  Reluctantly, Karen trudged up behind him.

  Emerging onto the roof, they saw Thomas sitting on the edge with an assortment of wires and electrical equipment.

  “Hey, Thomas,” Billy said.

  Karen and Billy walked out onto the roof. Thomas was hunched up with the stereo and car battery.

  “What the fuck is it?” Thomas asked.

  “Me and Karen here were wondering if we could help,” Billy said.

  “What?! Not that pedo!” Karen spat.

  “Not now. Fuck off,” Thomas said.

  “It’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time,” Billy reassured her. He crossed his arms and looked down at the cantankerous mechanical engineer. “Do you know what you’re doing there?”

  “Yes, I fucking do. So fuck off and leave me to it.”