by Ian Woodhead
He spun around and staggered back, not believing that he’d been such a naive fool. Alex stepped out from the shadows. The heavy sour stench of gore drying on her skin stung his nostrils. Why hadn’t he noticed the foul smell before?
Because I didn’t want you to
“Please, mistress. I swear that I never meant to question; I swear that I’ll never leave you.”
Vincent flinched when she took a step towards him. Her arms shot forward, she grabbed the old woman’s hair, and pulled her towards Alex’s face.
He braced himself, and as soon as she took a first bite, Vincent intended to get the fuck out. With a bit of luck, the monster will be too preoccupied with the old bag to notice him slipping away.
“The poor woman has gone into shock, Vincent. Look at her, she’s as floppy as a rag doll.” She dropped the woman and glared at him. You say you’ll never leave me, but your thoughts say otherwise. You’ll stab me in the back at the first opportunity.”
Alex booted the woman in the stomach. “I should have killed you instead of Christopher! I heard your thoughts concerning the bouncer, he didn’t cry out, did he? Not even when I pulled open his rib cage”
She took one more step towards him, “But he did shriek, Vincent. His mind screamed, just like your mind is going to scream.” She grinned, “Because I’m going to eat your tongue first.”
The old woman by her feet groaned. Alex picked her up, growled, then slammed the old woman’s head against the wall. Vincent watched Alex’s eyes momentarily glaze over, she was fighting the overwhelming urge to tune everything out and dive into the woman’s broken head.
Vincent bolted for the open door, yelping in terror when the woman’s hands reached out and tried to grab him. He bobbed under the outstretched arms and dived into the corridor.
Her screams of pure rage made the hairs on the back of his arms stand up, but the noise also brought a smile to his face—it was the sound of defeat. Vincent had managed to escape from the woman. He looked back and almost whooped with joy to discover that she had yet to leave the apartment. Had the lure of fresh blood been too much for her to resist?
Oh god, he fucking hoped so.
Vincent stopped by his own door to catch his breath. He then looked inside and moaned in despair at the sight before him. Vincent had left his bag on the table, and it was still there but now covered in plaster dust.
A young boy dropped down from a hole in the ceiling. He landed on the table, saw Vincent, and hissed at him. At their last encounter, he didn’t see these abominations as much of a threat; Alex had kept him safe.
The boy leapt off the table, it was coming straight for him! Vincent slammed the door shut and ran for the fire doors.
“I want to feel you inside me just one more time.”
He glanced behind him; she hadn’t forgotten about him after all. Alex stood there, framed in the doorway. She winked, then licked a scarlet lump of jelly off her lips. “I’ll do you a deal, Vincent. If you beg for forgiveness, I promise that I’ll only eat one of your hands.”
A couple more paces and he’d be out of here. Vincent slammed through the fire door and skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs. A massed horde of the dead was slowly climbing up the steps and over each other. The ones nearest to him began to groan, the others below followed. Vincent looked back at the door. What the fuck was he going to do now?
“The lift.” He muttered.
He looked through the glass, she still hadn’t moved. He opened the door, ran over to the lift and pressed his palm against the glass.
“They are all coming for me, Vincent.” Alex sighed and moved away from the door. “They don’t like me stealing their food. I can hear their singular thought going round in my head,”
Vincent grabbed the extinguisher when the woman took another step forward. Where the fuck was this lift? “Keep away from me.” He snarled. He pointed the nozzle at the woman.
“I wish you could see what you look like, Vincent. Shivering in a corner like a terrified bunny, you are such a pathetic sight. Why the hell did you have to go and betray me? You knew that I preferred you over the others. You were my own beautiful man.”
“You did this to me, you monster.”
“No, you did it to yourself. I’m a product of your lust.” Alex spat in the palm of her hand then wiped it down the front of her face. “Underneath this mess, I’m still a woman with needs and desires. Come on, Vincent, don’t choose this path. We have both made mistakes and said things we didn’t mean. Please, Vincent, come back to me.”
He shook his head, “I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”
She nodded. “Okay, I won’t stop you. By the way, your lift is here.”
Vincent turned around just as the lift doors opened. Five pairs of dead hands reached out through the widening gap and pulled the screaming man inside. Vincent felt their teeth biting into his tender flesh. The pain was indescribable. Before he passed out a soft sound reached his dying brain—it sounded like a woman sobbing.
Chapter Twenty-three
He put the pie on the kitchen top, next to the chocolate roll, and a packet of sliced ham. Craig went back to the fridge to see if there were any more goodies in there. He pulled a face at the wealth of stuff in here, yet he didn’t recognise any of it. Craig pulled a clear plastic tub off the top shelf and peered inside.
“What the hell are these?” he murmured, taking an experimental sniff.
They reminded him of black grapes, but who in their right mind would mix grapes with what looked like cottage cheese? He put them back, closed the door and turned towards his improvised meal.
This would be the first food that he’d had for over – he checked his watch. “No way!” he gasped. “It can’t be two in the morning already!”
The wall clock and the time on the microwave oven agreed with his watch. “Jesus,” he muttered.
Craig picked up the pie first and took a large bite, moaning in delight at the surprise of finding real lumps of tender beef inside the crust. This was the most incredible pie that he had ever tasted. Craig wondered how much it had cost. His dad bought pies every week from the supermarket in the middle of the estate; they never tasted as nice as this one. He took another bite, wondering what people are going to eat once all the pies had gone.
“What people?” he mumbled, as he looked out of the kitchen window.
Outside the mill looked as empty as inside. Since fleeing from the two dead people, he hadn’t seen or heard anyone.
It felt as if he was the only person left in here, that everyone else had either left or was in hiding.
“Or dead,” he whispered.
Craig had no wish to meet any other survivors anyway. Losing Laurence was bad enough, but accepting the fact that Stacy had gone from his life, almost tore his heart in two. All Craig wanted to do now was to go home.
His hands had been on that metal bar when his stomach abruptly woke up and rumbled. He had turned away from the fire exit and padded back into the corridor. Finding something to eat would only take a couple of minutes, and he had no idea when he’d next eat.
There were only a couple of apartments that he and Laurence had checked out on this level; considering Laurence was in one of them, that only left number eighteen. They’d checked that one first, and aside from finding an aquarium holding a couple of turtles, the room was empty of life.
He stopped in mid chew, something other than himself was moving about. He cast his eyes around the room, searching for any signs of those wall climbers. No, it wasn’t them, the noise didn’t originate from this apartment.
“It’s a door opening.” He muttered.
It had to be another survivor. Craig took another bite and then stuffed the rest of his food into his pocket. He said to himself that he didn’t want to find anyone else, yet as soon as the hope of finding one more person still alive, it sent his heart rate soaring.
Dare he shout out? What if it was that woman? He slowly walked over to the open doorway and pe
ered around the corner. The only sound he could now hear was his heart trying to escape through his ribcage.
He swallowed hard, wishing that he hadn’t thought of that image. The monster with the lovely voice had done just that to Laurence. He stayed where he was, weighing up his options, the temptation to shut the door, put something against it, and retreat to the fridge was hard to resist.
No, he decided not to take the cowards way out; besides, he needed to get to that fire exit. It couldn’t be her, he remembered watching the woman on the video, and she made no secret of her presence.
Thinking about her reminded him of something that he’d pushed to the back of his mind. He got the impression that she knew what was behind those doors.
“But that’s like mind reading.” He whispered. “That’s impossible.” Craig gazed at the specks of gore drying on the walls further down the hall. “Like dead people moving about is impossible?”
He stepped out into the corridor, then remembered the weapon that Laurence had made for him, and Craig ran back in to get it. Her wiped goo off the nails on the end and rushed back outside. He just had to see who it was, they may need his help. Craig owed it to those girls that he and Laurence couldn’t save. He’d done well so far.
“Yeah, by running and hiding.”
Craig shook away the lingering doubts, “I can still protect myself,” he said, running towards the corner of the corridor.
The smell of bad meat hit him just as he turned the corner. He skidded to a halt, staring in utter terror at the sight of dozens of bodies packed up against the doors. Their combined weight was slowly opening them. Craig began to shake, and he felt his bladder weaken as the door finally opened and the dead things climbed over each other, trying to get through.
He turned around and yelped when he saw the same happening at the door at the other end of the corridor. He spun around, intending to get back to the apartment when another of the things stumbled through the door.
“No, no way,” he cried. “We checked that apartment.”
He was trapped. Craig watched it lift up its head then turn to look at him; it began to moan before shambling towards him. Craig turned and ran, checking all the doors as he passed them, hoping that they’d missed one earlier.
He stopped in front of a small pile of rubble beside the wall that wasn’t there earlier. There was now a hole the same level as his chest; he looked around a saw another hole on the other side of the wall right at the top. He looked behind him and saw that thing lurching towards him. Craig pushed away the images of a dozen dirty little hands reaching for him and climbed into the hole, thanking God that he was small for his age.
Craig screamed when the thing in the corridor grabbed his shoe. He kicked back, grunting with satisfaction when he felt something crunch. The grip was loosened just enough for him to pull his foot away. He climbed up into narrow gap between the old stone and the new partition, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of intense claustrophobia creeping over him. Craig fucking hated tight and enclosed spaces; it was pitch black as well, which wasn’t helping his situation one bit.
The only source of light came from the hole that he had entered. He looked behind him, whimpering when he saw the light slowly disappearing. It was trying to climb in to get him! Craig climbed faster.
He clambered up until he reached the ceiling, but that thing below had given up on him. Craig discovered how the wall climbers could get about so easily. The gap between the old stone corridor and the new wall was tight for him, but the little ones would have no trouble charging through it, especially with their weird new abilities. He sat on the edge of the new wall and looked up at the old Victorian brickwork above him. The old curved ceiling, it reminded him of a railway tunnel or the archway under a bridge.
He reached across and lifted up one of the ceiling tiles just a crack. Jesus, there were dozens of them now, just milling about and bumping into each other—they looked almost comical, like human bumper cars.
Getting to that fire exit was now impossible; he could use the ceiling to clamber across but as soon as he dropped down, he counted five of those dead things within grabbing distance. There must be another exit he could reach.
Craig spotted a metal ladder bolted to the wall on the other side. Maybe that would lead down to the next level, hopefully with none of those gross things wanting to rip his limbs off.
His heart beat speeded up when he thought he heard something else move in here. He looked along the cavity wall, sure that a shadow flickered. He definitely wasn’t alone anymore; he turned his head and saw half a dozen kids climbing the walls, they moved like huge spiders. He stood up and ran across narrow walkway between the fragile tiles.
Craig reached the ladder and saw that they were below him as well. He climbed up onto the next level instead, praying that the kids wouldn’t follow him. There was somebody in the corridor, he could hear at little two voices murmuring. Craig froze when he found that one of the voices was female. Was it her?
Oh Christ, what was he going to do? He emptied his mind, hoped that she’d think he was one of those flesh-eating kids again, and climbed up the narrow gap towards the ceiling.
If it was the woman who killed Laurence, then he’d have to try and find another way out; this wasn’t fucking fair, why were his options always whittled down to just one choice?
Craig climbed onto ceiling trying to be as quiet as he could, and he took his time in crossing over. The voices below him abruptly stopped; maybe they had gone, but despite the temptation, he didn’t raise a tile to check.
There was a tremendous ripping sound, and Craig found himself tilting sideways with his legs dangling in mid air. Somebody grabbed the side of his trousers and pulled him; he let got of the walkway and fell onto the corridor carpet. Craig curled up into a ball.
“Please don’t kill me!” he cried.
Craig peeked out through a gap in his arm, and the face of a strange woman stared back at him.
She kneeled beside him. “Oh hell, this one is normal,” she said, looking away from Craig.
She moved out of the way and he saw two men beside her, they were both holding swords. It wasn’t the same woman, different voice and different face. Craig’s emotions broke through like a burst dam. He threw his arms around her neck and started to cry.
“Hey, it’s okay, lad. You’re safe now. My friends will protect you.”
The woman gently prised his arm off her neck; her hair smelled of strawberries. Craig wiped his eyes and looked away, he saw one of the men entering an apartment.
“That was embarrassing,” he muttered. “I’m sorry about that.”
She smiled and moved his hair away from his wet cheeks. “It’s okay, kid, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I daren’t think what you must have been through.”
Craig nodded and stood up, wincing. He was a bit bruised, but seemed okay to walk. The remaining guy walked up to him and shook his hand. “I’m Isaac,” he said, “but you can call me Bonzo. Everyone else does. I’m sorry about the rough landing there. I thought that you were one of those changed kids.”
“S’ok,” he mumbled.
Craig looked at the woman. “I just want to go home.”
The woman nodded, “I know you do. What’s your name? I’m Helen, by the way.”
He nodded back to her, wondering if he ought to shake her hand as well. “I’m Craig.”
“Which apartment do you live in, Craig?” Bonzo asked.
“He shrugged. “I don’t live here, I’m just visiting. I live across the canal. I was trying to get to a fire escape when loads of those dead people trapped me.”
“Helen, I think that we should help our new friend get home.”
Craig wondered if Helen was Bonzo’s wife, they did seem to be rather close. Then again, the woman didn’t look too happy with the man’s suggestion.
“I’m sorry for being so brutal here, Bonzo, but are you giving up on your family?”
The man shook his head
violently, “Of course I’m not, Helen. I just didn’t think of the fire exit. Our apartment is right next door to the one on our level. I’m just thinking that if they saw what was happening, they’d head straight for it. I mean, you would, wouldn’t you.”
Craig nodded, but could tell that the man didn’t believe his own words. Also, Craig had yet to find an escape that had already been opened.
“Look, Helen. We have been through most of the Mill and our new friend is the only person we have found alive. I think that’s where our Christine and Katie have gone. We have a second home in Halifax, they’re probably waiting for me.”
Bonzo sighed, “What about you, Craig, have you seen anyone else?”
He looked at the woman and shivered. “I’ve only seen the bad people. A woman and a man.”
Helen’s face drained of colour, “Oh Christ, he’s still alive. How long ago was this, Craig?”
He shrugged, “I’m not sure, it could have been about one hour, maybe less. I’m sorry, I can’t really remember.”
“Helen, the chances are that he’ll have gone the same way as the others by now, and even if we do find him again, he’ll wish he had been bitten by a zombie.”
Craig saw the other man stick his head through the open doorway. He looked terrified.
“You need to see this,” he said.
They followed him into the dark apartment. Craig didn’t move.
“Come on, lad” said Marcus. He gave him a reassuring smile. “I promise you that you’ll be safe with us. I’ve checked the place out already.”
Craig nodded and followed them in, wondering if he had looked under the bed. The man walked over to the window and pointed down. Craig heard the woman gasp.
“Oh my god!” she said. “Where did all those come from?”
Craig rushed over and gazed out into the street. It was no longer deserted; there were vast hordes of dead bodies, all shambling towards the mill to join the ones already clustered around the building. The crowd was already packed three deep. There was no way that they’d be able to leave here now.