by Ian Woodhead
Mark followed him through, watching the shadows on the stairwell creep closer. He pushed the fire door shut and leaned against it. Mark had no clue where he was.
“We find the child and leave, Mark.” Clancy walked over to a gouge in the plaster, he picked up a table and used it to obscure the hole. “It’s happening again. Those two monsters are not destroying us. The infection is spreading like wildfire.”
As they walked, Mark began to recognize the area. They walked up to the next intersection. Clancy stopped him with a hand to his chest. He put his finger up to his lips and slowly moved around the corner. Mark thought to himself that it appeared Clancy might have had some military experience.
The canteen was opposite them and full of activity. There were three corpses stirring, but no sign of Diane or Andy. Clancy pointed to the floor, indicating a trail of wet blood leading from the door. They stealthily followed the trail. Around the corner, they saw the thing crawling along the corridor, leaving behind more blood and bits of gore. At the end of the corridor they spotted Andy, holding Diane in his arms, looking terrified.
Mark does not dare shout. He doesn't want to give away his position to the things still in the canteen. Mark began to wonder why Andy was not moving. All he would have to do is step over the injured monster.
Clancy rushed past Mark, blade at the ready, about to reach down and dispatch the crawler.
Something unseen came in a flash and slammed Mark into the wall so hard that he actually saw stars. He tried hard to bring his world back into focus. When the stars dissipated, Mark could see Oliver grabbing Clancy’s hair and tripping him. As he pin-wheeled to the floor the crawling thing reached up, grabbing hold of his arm. Clancy struggled to get up, but kept slipping in the trail of gore, unable to regain his footing. As Clancy screamed for his life, the dead thing pulled him to its hungry mouth and sunk its teeth into his face, tearing his lower lip from his jaw. The thing ripped Clancy's throat open and his screaming stopped.
Mark heard moaning coming from his left and he turned to see another one heading for him.
God, he was in so much pain. The thing reached for him and Mark blindly slashed out with the knife. The blade cut through the thing's hand, severing its middle finger. The thing's progress was not slowed at all. Mark let out an angry scream and plunged the blade through dead man’s throat.
Oliver leaned against the wall and clapped his hands together, chuckling.
“I must admit, I am very surprised to see you still alive, Mark.” He reached down and snatched the knife from Clancy's dying hand. He plunged the blade into the crawler's neck, pulled it free and jammed it into Clancy's forehead.
“You are both just full of surprises. Oh, where is Nigel, by the way. Is he dead?” He asked, casually waving the knife though the air to punctuate his speech.
“He left.”
“Well, that doesn’t really surprise me.” Oliver shrugged and dropped the knife. “Nigel’s foolish act fucked everything up. Because of him, you will all die in here. He’s ruined my original plan.”
Oliver looked at Andy.
“It’s just you, me, and Diane now. Come on, son. We had better make tracks. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you," he said in his best imitation of a fatherly tone.
“He’s just another fucking monster! Don't trust him,” Mark screamed.
Andy whimpered.
Mark watched aghast as the boy actually did stand up.
“I know a safe place, Andy,” Oliver crooned, holding out his hand. “Everything is going to be alright.”
Andy held the girl tight and slowly approached him.
“That’s a good lad. Now, give me Diane.”
Andy stopped and shook his head.
“Come on, don’t make me annoyed, boy. You know the penalty for disobeying.”
Andy looked past Oliver and Mark and yelped, running back into the corner. Mark watched Oliver turn around and grin at him.
“Good bye, Mark, it was nice knowing you.”
Mark jumped as another thing shambled up to him. He bore down and swallowed the terror he felt, and waited until it was almost on top of him. He deftly rammed his knife deep into the monster's eye. It dropped in a decomposing heap at Oliver’s feet.
“For fuck sake!” Oliver screamed out. “Won't you just die? That is quite enough of this bullshit." He turned back and punched Andy in the face, ripping the baby out of the lad’s arms.
“Your turn, you bastard.” He lurched towards Mark.
Mark held the knife out in front of him, hoping he looked menacing.
“Stay the fuck away. I’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, sure you will.” Oliver laughed at him. Lightning fast, he grabbed the blade and pulled in out of Mark's hand.
“How the fuck do you plan on doing that?”
His pompous grin slid off his face, replaced with a look of pure shock. Oliver staggered forward and turned. Mark could see the handle of the knife stuck in Oliver’s back. He turned back to Mark. It appeared as though he was actually asking for help.
Andy jumped forward, pulled the knife out and stabbed him again. Mark caught the baby as she slipped from Oliver's arms.
“You took away my girls, you fuck. I won't let you take Diane, too." He ripped out the knife and plunged it in again.
Mark saw another dead man shuffling towards them.
“Come on, Andy, we need to get away.”
The two men ran down corridor, the fire exit finally in sight. Andy stopped him.
"Thank you so much." The boy was close to tears.
Mark nodded and tried to manage a smile.
"I’m guessing you want this cute little thing back now?”
"God, yes." Andy smiled and reached out his arms to take the girl.
Without warning, a pair of arms reached out from the darkness and wrapped around Andy's waist, pulling him off his feet. Mark watched in horror as Noah sunk his teeth into Andy’s neck.
Chapter Twenty
He whipped his head around, facing the outside and took a lungful of clean fresh air before turning back around. The black choking smoke bellowing out of the vents and into the lobby was cutting visibly down to zero.
“Why have you stopped?” said Aliza. Come on, my daughter is in there.”
Ernest fell into a wooden chair as Aliza pushed past him.
“I haven’t got time for this,” she growled. “I’m coming for you, baby!”
He shook his head, coughed and watched her race further into the building, still shouting her daughter’s name.
“You need to stay here,” muttered Zara. She grabbed his shoulders. “I won’t be long, and for crying out loud, please be vigilant.” Her eyes darted towards the open door. “The tower’s been infected now. The dead are everywhere.”
“You had better get her then, Zara; her yelling is going to attract those things like flies to shit.”
She nodded, “I will, just remember what I said.”
“Yes mummy, I’ll do as I’m told," he muttered sarcastically, watching the woman run through the lobby.
Ernest ran over to the ruined door and looked out, there were a few shambling corpses around but none close; he guessed that the smoke must be keeping them away. “You lot ain’t that fucking stupid.” He decided against blockading the door. There seemed little point if those things were not going to come in here anyway.
“Fuck this,” he said. “I can’t just wait here.” Even with the door open, this thick smoke was filling up the room fast. Ernest pushed over the desk and dragged it against the vent, then pulled his jumper over his nose. He wiped the tears streaming down his cheeks and rushed over to the fire door.
He slammed his body through the door and fell into the corridor, relieved to find this area relatively free from smoke. At least he could now breathe a little easier. Ernest pulled his jumper down and looked through the reinforced glass into the lobby; he did not think they’d be able to leave this way.
He calmed down his breathing and
listened, trying to see if he could hear that foolish woman’s shouting, but there was nothing, no sound at all. Ernest dare not call out for fear of attracting the wrong sort of attention. Fuck knows what the hell was lurking in this tower block right now. “You should have stayed outside,” he whispered.
Ernest had fucking doubt that those hunters had been making their way over to this tower block. Bloody hell, this must have been the largest source of food in the local area. They may as well have just attached a huge McDonald’s sign to the top of the building. He then heard the distant sound of a single moan and shuddered. So the dead were in here now, so much for the source of food for the hunters. This place was now just another building full of the fucking dead. He gripped his metal bar tighter.
Ernest slowly crept forward, trying not to make a single sound and listening out for any trace of his companions. If that hunter had been in the tower, it made sense that he would have buggered off by now. It would be suicide for him to stay in here with this tower now full of those things; he would be a complete fucking moron to stick around.
He cried out in shock and pain as a huge hand flew out of a doorway and ripped the bar out of his hands. His head spun and he found himself almost blacking out as he fell backwards. He felt someone violently dragging him backward. Ernest’s feet scrambled for purchase as he was thrown like a sack of potatoes into a dark room.
“Hello there, Ernest.” said the hunter, shutting the door after him. “Contrary to what you believe, I am not a 'total fucking moron'. I was just waiting for my dinner to come to me.” The big man grinned, showing off his yellow-stained chisel-like teeth. He slowly ran his fat greasy tongue over his lips. “In case your tiny brain hasn’t caught up, that would be you.”
He tore his eyes away from this vile monster when he heard a quiet bubbling groan emanating from across the room. He groaned himself at the sight of another hunter huddled under a metal table, twitching and rocking from side to side. At least, he assumed it was another hunter. With its grey skin and blank-faced gaze, the thing acted more like a deadie. He then saw a weeping wound on its leg, oozing thick black fluid that ran down its ankle.
“Oh, don’t you worry your mind about my other hunter pal, Ernest. He’s having a bit of a bad day.” He laughed. “Noah is off his food at the moment.” The hunter took a step closer and rubbed his hands. “That’s not such a bad thing, though. It mean’s I’ve got you all to myself.”
“I’ve been here before,” said Ernest. He smiled at the approaching hunter, filled his mind with images of Darren and waited for the hunter’s arms to reach for his body. Ernest dropped to the floor and rolled out of the way. He jumped to his feet and charged for the door. Ernest screamed out in horror frustration when he found the fucker had locked it.
“Oh my god, do I really look that dumb?” The hunter turned around. “Nice trick with the mind block, you’re a right slippery fucker. Now come on, Ernest. Accept the inevitable. I promise that I’ll make it quick, you won’t feel a thing.”
Ernest looked in disgust at this vile thing. He completely blanked his mind and filled it with thoughts of his son once more.
“You bastard!” growled the hunter.
As he charged, Ernest easily slipped away from his clumsy grasping and raced over to the table, watching the damaged hunter shake and groan. Ernest did not doubt that this fucking gross abomination used to be a hunter. But now? Now it really was behaving just like a deadie, and deadies had preferences over their choice of food.
Ernest grabbed the edge of the heavy table and heaved the thing up, watching the abomination slip its bonds and scuttle out. He dived out of the way and watched in satisfaction as the thing threw its body straight at the shocked hunter.
The hunter screamed in utter rage as he pulled Noah off him and launched it to the other side of the room. The hunter took a deep breath then looked over at Ernest and slowly shook his head. “Have you quite finished now, you little retard?”
Ernest looked up at the grinning hunter, not knowing what the fuck to do now. Noah lay in the corner of the room like a bundle of rags. The impact had snapped its neck. That thing would not be getting up again.
“It’s time for you to go now.” smiled the hunter, beckoning him over. “Come over here, I’ll will be quick; I think you have earned that much.”
He shook his head, and then noticed that Noah had caused some damage to the hunter. He saw a long gouge down the monster’s arm and the black goo that seeped from the wound. The hunter looked down; he must not have realized that Noah had caused any damage. He chuckled.
“Well, will you look at that, Ernest? I appear to be hurt. Oh, boo-hoo,” he said in mock concern. He held out his arm and seemed to concentrate deeply for a moment, waiting for something to happen.
Ernest watched the expression on the hunter’s face abruptly change from conceit to shock when he saw that his injury was refusing to knit back together.
“What the fuck is going on?” he muttered. “This can’t be right.”
Ernest took advantage of the distraction and picked up a metal chair. He threw it at the hunter with all of the strength he could muster. It smashed into his legs, and the monster fell to his knees.
“What is happening to me?” the hunter cried out when he saw more black fluid soaking through his trousers. “This isn’t how I’m supposed to go! I can’t help what I am, this isn’t fair”
Its pitiful babbling almost made Ernest feel sad for the thing, until he remembered Zara had taken the easy route. His head jerked up when he heard voices on the other side of the door. “In here!” he screamed.
The door handle shook, and the next moment, the wood splintered open. Pieces of the door exploded across the room. Ernest took a deep breath and caught a relieved sob in his throat as he saw the two girls framed in the doorway. He then saw a gorgeous looking baby girl in Aliza’s arms and smiled. They were not alone. As they rushed into the room, another man followed them inside.
Zara hurried over to the pile of rags and pulled the body up. She then dropped it and stamped down hard on Noah’s head. “If there is a hell, Noah, I hope you enjoy it down there.”
“Help me!”
Ernest watched it turn its pathetic gaze over to the female hunter. It must have been relieved to see that she was of his own kind. A puzzled look washed over the hunter’s face. Ernest guessed that the fucker had just worked out that she wasn’t here to save him. He lifted up his arm pathetically.
“Why is this happening?”
When she did not answer, he tried to stand.
“I want you to help me, you fucking bitch!” he roared in ineffectual anger.
The other man walked closer to the weeping hunter, careful to stay out of the thing’s reach.
“You kind have had your fun on this planet. I am guessing right now that you are feeling very weak. You are in terrible pain and not feeling all that invincible anymore?” He chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry, how terribly impolite of me, I’m called Mark. I would shake your hand but I fear you would just try to take a bite out of me. I’ve got it figured out.” He crouched down. “I’m sorry to tell you this, buddy, but you’re going to die. You are suffering from a toxic overload. Your food… we poor humans have the virus in us all. You have been eating infected meat from day one. The virus that caused all this shit is still in the atmosphere and when your skin gets broken, the stuff gets in and eats you away like strong acid.”
The hunter looked up at the man with actual tears in his eyes.
“I hurt.”
Mark smiled, “Good. I want you to feel pain; I want you to die slowly and in agony. I think we all do.” He stepped forward, reached around and took a double-sided blade from his belt then thrust it up through the bottom of the hunter’s jaw. The things eyes bulged and its arms flailed around before Mark pulled his knife from the thing’s skull.
“”We don’t have time though, so just die, you evil bastard.” The corpse of the former hunter fell forward and crashed again
st the floor.
“Why are we still here?” cried Aliza, holding her baby against her chest. “We have to get out; this smoke is going to damage my Diane.”
Ernest looked at the assemble people and grinned. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for saving me.”
“You did that yourself, man,” said Mark. “We just cleared up after you.” He clapped Ernest on the back. “Good job.”
He nodded, “I suppose.” Ernest followed the others out of the room and picked up his metal bar. He was so happy that he was no longer alone. “Where do we go from here?” he asked. “You are all welcome at my place, I’ve got a ton of food and it is quite safe now.” he smiled at Zara, “I even have a vegan section.”
“Wait, I think there’s another group close by, in Manchester. I think we grab a vehicle and see if we can find it.”
Zara stopped and turned back to the group. It was her turn to smile.
“Where do you think I’m from?”
The End
Dead Reaping
Edited by Linda Tooch
Chapter One
The two dead men stood like statues, partially obscured by the waist high brown grass. Dominic Edmonton pressed his nose against the cold glass, watching, fascinated as the corpses began to turn, their movement was so subtle, like watching the minute hand on a clock. He could not mistake their movement for anything else. Those two creatures had caught the scent of warm human flesh.
Even within the safety of the house, he still felt a shudder ripple through his body. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something more pleasant, anything to block those vivid, nightmarish memories that threatened to engulf his fragile disposition.
“Just stop that, you silly man,” he whispered, wiping away the hot tears.
He spotted yet more movement a few metres past the two dead bodies; just in front of a tumbledown stone barn, were a dozen more corpses. Like a stone thrown into a still pond, the pair’s abrupt movement rippled across the field. The others began to rotate. There were a few more inside that building, but they did not seem affected, at least not yet.