Billy watched as a latecomer jostled its way through the feckless zombies up to one of the diners fresh with blood. He stretched his arms out and grabbed hold of his comrade, pulling him in. The blood-covered creature passively allowed itself to be mauled by the newcomer, uninterested in its actions. The newcomer lunged in for a bite, but paused. It sensed something was wrong. Keeping the blooded head in its grasp, it lent in. It ran its mouth over the dead flesh, sponging up some of the fresh remains.
The two creatures stood together in their queer embrace in an action that reminded Billy of chimps grooming each other.
“What do we do with Karen’s body?” Colin asked.
There was silence.
“I mean, we can’t just throw her off the side of the building,” Colin added.
“Where is she?” Sharon asked.
“The women’s toilet on third,” Colin answered.
“We don’t just have Karen’s body. We have John’s too,” Liz said, “and we can’t leave them lying about. They’ll become a health hazard.”
“And what about that thing you’ve got tied up on the fourth floor?!” Sharon snapped. “Isn’t it a hazard?!”
Colin sensed the mood shift and stepped in to try to defuse things. “Let’s just address one problem at a time. What do we do about Karen and John’s bodies? Just tossing them over the side of the building seems a little disrespectful.”
“Why didn’t Thomas throw Karen off the roof?” Billy asked.
“What?” Colin said, more surprised by Billy’s voice than his actual question.
Billy turned round to look at the gathered survivors.
“Why didn’t he throw Karen’s body off the building after he killed her?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” Colin said. “Maybe we disturbed him. Or maybe he didn’t realise he’d killed her?”
“We could maybe have asked Thomas if you hadn’t tossed him off the roof,” Sharon said.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I let my anger get the better of me and now Thomas is dead. There’s nothing I can do to change that, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. And that doesn’t sit well with me, because if it wasn’t him I’ve murdered an innocent man.”
“What are you saying?” Liz asked. “That one of you raped Karen?”
“What?” Colin said defensively. “I didn’t touch her.”
“You did find her,” Sharon added.
“What's that got to do with it?”
“You hear about that sort of thing all the time,” Liz said.
“What sort of thing?” Colin said, bemused.
“Teachers that take advantage of schoolgirls,” Liz explained.
“What?! You’re accusing me of being some kind of pervert?”
“Whoa!” Billy barked. “Karen was left half-naked. Whoever killed her wanted us to suspect Thomas. He was the obvious culprit.” He pointed a finger at the others. “One of you has played me. You all knew I was close to killing him for touching Karen. I was set up to kill Thomas.”
“Thomas was a dick. No one’s going to miss him,” Colin said. “But who would want him out of the way so badly they’d be willing to kill a little girl?”
“The only person here with any real gripe against Thomas is Sharon,” Liz said.
“Just a minute here,” Sharon protested. “The man was obnoxious and violent, but I didn’t have cause to kill him. What about you, Liz? Maybe you were scared he’d attack your little girl like he did Karen?”
“This is getting ridiculous,” Colin said. “Why on earth would anyone kill Karen to set up Thomas?”
“Maybe you didn’t want Karen telling everyone you raped her,” Sharon said. “Billy killing Thomas was just your way of getting off the hook.”
“Whoa, I didn’t rape Karen. What about Billy?” Colin asked, waving an animated hand at the biker. “He’s the one who killed Thomas. Why couldn't it be him?”
“Magda and Alex,” Sharon said out of the blue.
All eyes were on her now.
“We assumed they committed suicide. What if they didn’t? What if one of you killed them?”
Before anyone else could speak, Sharon went on, “And John. All the empty aspirin packets in his drawer. He didn’t take all those—he was fed them in the leftovers.”
“One of us is a psychopathic murderer?” Liz said.
“Managers,” Colin said.
“What about managers?” Sharon asked.
“I read that managers in big companies are more often than not psychopaths.”
“That’s nonsense,” Sharon said dismissively.
“Apparently the job fits their personality: manipulative and with a disregard for others,” Colin said.
“Do you think John was murdered?” Liz added.
“The fat fuck could have just up and died, I suppose, but we can’t rule it out.” Billy said.
“What about all the aspirin in his drawer? Could he not just have taken it to kill himself?” Colin suggested.
“Why do aspirin?” Sharon asked.
“We all saw Alex crawling around outside. John wasn’t stupid enough to jump,” Liz said.
“Why’d they jump off into the horde, anyway?” Billy asked. “Why didn’t they jump off on the car park side of the building?”
“Maybe they didn’t think about that,” Sharon offered.
“What about Mo?” Colin said.
“Mo? Mo’s dead,” Sharon replied.
“Is he? We’ve only assumed that. I mean, Thomas didn’t say how he died. He might have just assumed it.”
“He was always disappearing,” Liz added.
“So Mo’s stalking us? Killing us off one by one? That’s ludicrous,” Sharon said.
“Look, this is getting us nowhere,” Colin said. “Let’s face it: without police forensics we’re making a lot of suppositions here.”
“The only person here we know who has killed is Billy,” Liz said.
“I was fucking set up!” Billy spat, red-faced and pointing a finger at Liz.
“So you say,” Sharon added.
Colin cut in, “Look, this is getting us nowhere!”
“So you’re saying we just ignore the fact that people are getting killed and go about as if nothing’s happened?" Sharon said.
They all stood silently looking each other over.
“Okay, okay,” Colin said. “First things first. What do we do with the bodies?”
***
The two green sleeping bags lay side by side. One looked half empty.
“Do we say a few words?” Liz asked.
“Does anyone know if John or Karen had a faith?” Billy said.
“Other than a friend’s daughter’s christening, I don’t remember John ever talking about church,” Sharon said.
“What about Karen?” Billy asked.
Colin shook his head, looking at the smaller of the two sleeping bags.
“I don’t remember. She certainly doesn’t have any overtly religious beliefs,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip. He shook his head. “Such a waste. She was only fourteen.”
“Well, if no one else wants to, I’ll say a few words,” Billy volunteered.
He coughed to clear his throat and bowed his head. The others followed suit.
“Oh Lord, I ask you to take these three souls into your care. I don’t remember much from Sunday school and such, but as I recall we are to take comfort from the promise of our resurrection and eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ. I would like to thank you, Lord, for not bestowing this upon our friends. Amen.”
A round of Amens lifted from the impromptu flock, except from Liz.
Her bottom jaw wavered and tears ran from her eyes. She turned and looked towards the office where her dead son was contained.
“Oh shit,” Billy said. “I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t… I mean…that was insensitive. I’m sorry.”
Sharon gestured to Billy that he should stop rambling and walked over to put
an arm around Liz. Melissa was already hugging her mother tight around the waist.
Colin lent in towards Billy and spoke quietly.
“You said three souls,” he said.
“I was including Thomas, too,” Billy said.
He turned and exited the office.
Colin watched the doors close behind him.
“Should we let him go off on his own?” he asked.
“Why?” Sharon asked, with her arm round Liz’s shoulder.
“What if he’s the murderer?” Colin said.
“Who’s he going to murder, Colin?”
“Shit. What if he’s going to get one of the machine guns?”
“Billy’s not the murderer,” Liz said, composing herself.
“How do you know that?” Colin asked.
“He’s got that shotgun,” Liz said.
“Yeah, but he’s only got two cartridges left for it,” Colin said. “He couldn’t kill us all with two shots.”
“He wouldn’t have to,” Liz said. “He could just shoot you, then me or Sharon. Even out of ammunition he could easily overpower a little girl and one grown woman.”
Colin shook his head. “I’m not convinced. In fact, the only person I can say for sure isn’t the murderer is me.”
“Way to go, Colin. Of course the murderer would deny the fact,” Sharon said.
“What are we going to do?” Liz asked. “One of you is a murderer. How do the rest of us survive? What if John was poisoned? Do we cook our meals separately now? What do we do when we need to sleep?”
“Suppose we’ll need to do everything together and have a watch at night; two people sleep, two people keep guard,” Sharon replied.
“As if things weren't bad enough,” Colin said.
Saturday
Chapter 20
Massacre
Colin felt a hand on his chest and he woke with a start.
Liz was looming over him, lantern in hand.
“Calm down,” she said. “It’s yours and Billy’s turn to take watch.”
“Oh,” Colin said, trying to slow his heart down.
He unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up. It was cold, colder than it had been since his arrival here. He pulled his shorts and shirt back on. The thought struck him that if they were still here in winter he might just freeze to death. He slipped his shoes on and with a stretch he emerged from his tent.
Billy was already up. He stood leaning up against the windows on the street side of the building. There was a fire somewhere not too distant that lit the underside of the smoky clouds a dull orange.
“Ma?” a sweet voice said from behind him.
The little dog hopped out of the girl’s tent and took a look around.
“I’m just coming to bed, honey. You snuggle under,” Liz replied.
“Here, Blow,” Melisa called.
The dog did an about-face and disappeared back into the tent.
“What time is it?” Colin asked absently.
“Three in the morning, like you agreed,” Sharon said as she walked past him towards her own tent.
“Oh, right,” Colin said, ending the statement with a yawn.
He walked over to the water faucet to pour himself a drink. Pressing the button, nothing happened. He tapped the side of the plastic water bottle. It rang hollow, but a tiny trickle of water splashed out. It was less than a mouthful. Colin turned to his fellow survivors.
“Is there no water left?” he asked.
“There’s still a ton of them over by the supply crates,” Liz answered.
Colin drank down the measly dribble of water from the cup.
“I can’t be arsed switching a full one over in the dark,” he said.
“The water cooler on the second is still full,” Sharon offered.
“Okay,” Colin said.
He put his hand on the office door and paused.
I’ll be fine, he told himself, deciding not to go to the hassle of getting a drink.
He strolled over to where Billy was standing.
Billy was stolid and quiet, with only his heavy breathing to differentiate him from a statue.
Slowly the rustling of sleeping bags subsided as the girls drifted off to sleep.
Colin looked out of the window at the infested street below. The ambient light from the far away fire wasn’t enough to illuminate the darkness. The hard edges of the buildings across the way caught a little of the light, but the heaving mass of zombies in the street were an inky black sea.
“You get used to the noise quick,” Colin said softly.
“The moaning?” Billy asked.
“Yeah. It’s like the sound of traffic. When I moved here, the sound of the cars outside kept me awake the first couple of nights. By the end of the first week it didn’t bother me at all.”
He turned to look at Billy. Even leaning against the windowsill he was taller than Colin at full stretch.
“Liz says you’re not the murderer,” Colin said.
Billy didn’t reply. Colin stood and watched the big man’s chest rise and fall as he breathed, but he made no move to speak. He cradled the shotgun in his arms like he was trying to keep it warm.
“So are you?” Colin asked.
“The murderer?” Billy asked.
“Uh-huh.” Colin nodded.
“Doesn’t matter what I say. The murderer isn’t likely to admit it,” Billy replied.
“That’s what Sharon said,” Colin replied.
He turned and looked back out of the window.
“Can we track back people’s movements for each of the murders?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” Billy said.
“You’re being very dismissive.”
“It’s a fact. There’s no way we can account for everybody’s whereabouts over the last few days.”
“There’s got to be some clues or evidence. We’ve got to work this out. Otherwise we’ll tear ourselves apart accusing each other.”
Colin sat down in an office chair. The chair squeaked gently as it accepted his weight. His hand stretched out and found the desk and his fingers started to drum on the table.
“I wish we’d had the foresight to raid the library at school as well as the kitchen,” he lamented. He paused a moment, then added in a raised tone, “The school!”
“What about the school?” Billy asked.
“Karen's friend, Shan—she ran off when I bumped into them,” Colin explained. “She was a piece of work, that girl: truancy, shoplifting, drugs.”
“And?” Billy asked impatiently.
“What if she followed us back here? What if she snuck into the building and is looking for revenge for us abandoning her?”
“For one, why would she sexually assault Karen? Surely she’d just kill her. And what about John? She never knew him.”
“John might have just died of natural causes,” Colin said. “Too much stress on his heart, and boom.”
“Not buying it,” Billy replied, shaking his head.
“Excuse me,” a voice said out of nowhere.
Colin jumped and almost fell off his chair. Turning round, he saw Melissa in the adult T-shirt she had been using as a nightdress.
“What is it, Melissa?” Billy asked sweetly.
Billy’s little dog, who had been sleeping with Melissa, was trailing at the girl’s ankle.
“Can I have a glass of water?” she asked.
“Sure thing,” Colin said.
He stood up and walked over to the faucet.
“Ah, hell,” he muttered, remembering it was dry. “It’s empty.”
“The one upstairs is still good. Sharon said so,” Billy replied.
“Okay. You want one while I’m up?” Colin offered.
Billy nodded. “Sure.”
Colin picked up a torch and stepped through the door. Melissa started to follow him.
“It’s okay. Just you wait here. I’ll go get your water,” Colin said.
Melissa looked back at her tent nervously, then n
odded.
Colin jogged up the dark stairwell, the oval of his torch dancing along ahead of him. He pushed the door open and popped the hilt of the torch in his mouth. With both hands free, he quickly poured three plastic cups full of water. He got to the door and had to do a little bit of a dance to hook his elbow through the door handle, then pull the door open and wedge a foot before it closed shut. In all the juggling acrobatics to avoid having to put the drinks down, a gulp of water splashed over the rim of the cup and dribbled down his wrists. With the torch still between his teeth, his curse came out as a snarling moan.
Gingerly he made his way down to the encampment.
From behind the door came the muffled yelp of the tiny dog, like someone had accidentally stood on its paw.
With his hands full, he put his back to the door and pushed it open, spinning round to stand facing in.
He stood there for a moment, unable to comprehend the scene.
Billy was clawing at a long metal object protruding from the side of his neck. From beside him, Liz stood up the shotgun in hand.
“Liz?” Colin said, the torch tumbling from his mouth.
Liz levelled the barrel at him and pulled the trigger.
The pellets struck Colin, throwing him hard up against the doors.
“What the hell was that?!” Sharon screamed, waking with a jolt.
Liz turned and marched over to the tent. Inside, Sharon was struggling to get out of her sleeping bag.
Standing a foot from the zipped-shut entrance, Liz aimed the gun and fired. The tent fabric ripped open. Through the ragged edges of the foot-wide hole, she could see Sharon sprawled over her camp bed.
“Ma!” Melissa said.
Liz turned to see her daughter pointing at the open doorway. Colin was slowly crawling out of the office. Liz dropped the empty shotgun on the floor and walked up to Billy. She placed a foot on his head and pulled the kitchen knife from his neck.
“Stay out of the way, honey,” Liz said sweetly as she past her daughter.
Colin hadn’t yet made it half out of the office. His fresh blood was smeared across the rough carpet tiles.
Blood was flowing quickly from the ragged wound on his torso. He kicked off with his feet and slid the rest of the way into the stairwell. The door clattered shut in front of him.
Demise of the Living Page 29