I Dream of Zombies (Book 2): Haven

by Vickie Johnstone

  Marla glanced at Martinez out of the corner of her eye as she walked alongside him. “Thanks for not shooting Jakob that time,” she said eventually, wishing to break the ice.

  He winked. “No sweat. I had your back and you made a good call. I hear that guy’s doing pretty good.”

  She nodded. “He is. Thanks.”

  “Quiet, girls, less of the chit-chat,” said Will.

  Marla bit her lip and listened out for anything unexpected. The building looked safe enough to her, but who knew what lay hidden, waiting. It seemed the staff had vacated the place in a hurry and there were no signs of bloodshed or a struggle. Perhaps everyone had managed to escape to somewhere safe. She wondered if any of them had been among those rescued from the church.

  “Looks clear to me,” Will announced when they reached the windows at the far end of the library. A flight of stairs led upwards and he ran his eyes up them. “Ladies first?” he offered.

  “I don’t really go in for that chivalry thing, so you can go if you like,” Marla replied with a half-smile.

  Martinez chuckled and raised his eyebrows at Will, who responded with a “Touché,” before making his way up the wooden staircase. It curved slightly all the way to the top.

  “Looks like the reference section,” Marla remarked over Will’s shoulder.

  “Really? Guess you’ve been in more libraries than me,” he said, surveying the space.

  Bookcases lined the walls, and the area was taken up by row upon row of tables with chairs placed around them. Books, pens and papers lay here and there, but everything was so neat, as if their owners had only stepped away. Doors led off to the toilets and staff areas, and a service desk rested to the side.

  “Should we check through those doors?” asked Martinez.

  Will nodded and Martinez strode quickly towards them. Marla walked slowly, taking in the entire floor, on guard for any fleeting shadow. When Martinez reached the men’s toilets, he pushed the door open confidently and disappeared inside. He reappeared grinning before heading into the ladies’. Within seconds he re-emerged wearing the same expression. “All clear, sir.”

  “That just leaves the staff area,” said Will. “What would be in there?”

  Marla shrugged. “No idea.”

  Will pushed the door open. Raising his gun, he entered a carpeted room with a table and chairs, and cooking facilities. There was a black sofa as well, and even more books. As if there were not enough already, he thought; didn’t these people do anything except read?

  Marla discerned the aroma of gone-off milk and guessed it had probably turned to cheese by now, so she opted to leave the cupboards and fridge alone. A couple of doors led off from the room, and Will headed towards the first one and checked inside. “Cloakroom, looks like. All clear.” He pushed the other door open and disappeared inside. Marla bit her lip at his lack of wariness and followed Martinez cautiously.

  They were standing inside a storeroom. Rows of metal shelving units stretched all the way back, filled from top to bottom with dusty boxes, old computer equipment and a myriad other items. Marla took in the bare wooden floorboards and grey painted walls. The place smelt musty.

  “Looks clear,” said Martinez.

  Will nodded. “Still have to check.”

  “I reckon this is the storage area for the reference library. Guess there’s probably more downstairs,” Marla suggested as they headed towards the back.

  Will did not reply, his concentration fixed on checking every single space between the shelves. A dull creak made them halt. Marla’s pulse raced and she sought the source of the sound. Martinez was the first to the back of the room. “Clear, sir,” he announced.

  “So what was the noise?” asked Will.

  Martinez shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Rats maybe?”

  Will pursed his lips and wandered back to the entrance of the room. “Let’s check downstairs. I want to know this place is safe while my team is in this building. Dumb enough goose chase as it is.”

  Marla gave Martinez a slight smile. He winked back at her before opening the door, allowing her to wander into the staffroom first. “Gee, thanks,” she said, and he grinned.

  Once they were all back in the reference area, they carried out one last check before heading back downstairs. Marla noticed Sylvia packing some books towards the entrance of the library. She turned when Will said, “Over there!” After pointing to some doors to the right, he strode off purposefully.

  “He doesn’t believe in waiting, does he?” Marla whispered to Martinez.

  He shrugged. “Seems that way. I reckon he’s trying to impress Caballero. He hasn’t been at Haven all that long.”

  Will stopped and peered over his shoulder. “Less talk, more speed, ladies,” he informed them before opening the door marked ‘Storeroom’. “Let’s check here, the other two doors opposite, and we’ll be done.” Without waiting for a response, he opened the door confidently and entered. Martinez headed in afterwards and held the door for Marla. She took it and closed it silently.

  Darkness shrouded the area beyond. Will took out his torch, and Martinez and Marla raised their weapons as he shone the light around. Rows of shelves greeted them, filled with boxes and equipment, and on a table to one side there was a computer, which Marla presumed to be the server for the library system. It was switched off. The place smelt damp and dusty, and a flight of wooden stairs led downwards. The fact there was a basement made Marla’s hackles rise. As Will spun the light around, she checked the switches on the walls, but the lights failed to come on. Her face clearly fell, because Martinez nodded to her before glancing at Will for further instruction.

  Marla had a sinking feeling that Will would head down, which he did without saying a word. She turned on the light on her assault rifle and waited for Martinez to move down the stairs. After adjusting his light, he did so, and she stepped down after him, planting each foot slowly and surely as she made her way down. Will disappeared from sight, followed by Martinez and then Marla reached solid ground. Feeling her pulse quicken, she did a 360-degree turn.

  The area was dotted with metal shelving and boxes, as far as she could tell in the dark. Down here the smell of damp increased, accompanied by something else that she could not put her finger on. The basement stretched out in all directions, the furthest reaches blurring. With every sense raised, Marla advanced towards the other two guys who had wandered straight ahead. There was no real reason for them to check this area, she thought with a frown. All they had to do was block the door from outside. She quickened her pace, intending to tell Will. As far as she could tell, they were taking unnecessary risks, which she was sure Caballero would not have taken under the same circumstances.

  “Sir,” she said as she came level with him, “Why don’t we just secure the door to the library? I have a bad feeling down here. We can’t see far.”

  Will turned and shone the full glare of his torch in Marla’s face, forcing her to look aside. “Soldier, we need to make sure the entire building is secure, for everyone’s safety. Do you have a problem following orders?”

  She swallowed. “No, sir.”

  “Then don’t question me.”

  Marla nodded and glanced at Martinez, finding his expression unreadable. Rubbing the top of her mouth with her tongue, she let her eyes sweep the area, left to right, and then over each shoulder, as she followed the two men towards the blackest part of the basement. The air became drier and dustier, making her want to sneeze, but she stopped herself. Ahead, Will kept on going until a rush of breathing brought him to a halt. He raised his hand, and Martinez and Marla stopped. She surveyed the area from left to right again as a cold finger seemed to run across the back of her neck: it belonged to fear.

  Deep sighs cut through the air, sliding in from the distance. Somewhere in this pitch the sound had its origins, but it did not choose to show itself, not yet. Experiencing the feeling of being watched, Marla peered over her shoulder. The breathing sounded laboured a
nd heavy. She guessed its owner to be a man, but there was nothing human about it. Marla looked at Will. Why had he paused so long? They needed to go back. He was risking their lives and for what? All they had to do was secure the door upstairs. The seconds passed like long, drawn-out minutes as she listened to the subdued sighs, breathing in and out, in and out. Something shifted in the shadows and then it was still once more, only to be joined by a lower moan. Her eyes widened, trying to penetrate the gloom.

  Will stopped dithering and turned around, to Marla’s relief. At last he was going to see sense. “Sir?” she whispered. He smiled and took a step closer to her, without lowering his gun. “Give me your weapon, soldier.”

  “What?” she gasped.

  “This is where we part company. Give me your weapon.”

  “Sir,” Martinez cut in, “you can’t be s...”

  Will scowled. “Martinez, shut it, unless you want to give me your weapon too.”

  Martinez stepped back, avoiding Marla’s eyes. She stared from one man to the other. “Why?” she asked.

  Without answering, Will raised the barrel of his gun to her cheek. Replacing his torch in his pocket, he opted to rely on the searchlight on his weapon. He held out his now free hand, waiting. Marla hesitated for a second and relented. There were two of them, and she felt certain Will would blow her head off and then lie about it, but why? As he took her rifle she tried in vain to catch Martinez’s eye. Why didn’t he stand up to the man? Then they could get out of here together.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” replied Will. “Give me your knife and torch.”

  Marla gazed back at him, determined not to show her fear. “I didn’t bring either. My Glock is in my rucksack in the truck.”

  As Will’s hands were full, he told Martinez, “Search her.”

  Martinez grimaced. Resting his gun against the nearest unit, he turned to Marla. Avoiding her eyes, he ran his hands down her sides and over her waist, hips and thighs. She drew in her breath as she felt his fingers trace the outline of her knife, but he did not pause there. After a few seconds, he stepped back. “She’s clean,” he announced. Still avoiding eye contact with her, he picked up his gun.

  “No hard feelings,” said Will. Then he began to walk away.

  “But you can’t…” Marla began and then stopped as a rustling crept out of the dark.

  “Speak and you’ll draw them out,” he answered, “but I’m sure they’ve already smelt you.” Without pausing any longer, he strode towards the stairs and vanished out of sight, trailed by Martinez who lingered slightly but did not turn.

  Marla did not hear the door close behind them, but she assumed it. Slowly, she took a few careful steps back towards the same exit, silently removing her knife and gripping it tightly in her right hand. On either side of her the rows of shelves towered into the gloomy ceiling, which she could not see. The details of her surroundings dimmed. Squinting, she urged her eyes to adjust, but without any source of light from a window there was no way of it improving. Knowing the breathing originated ahead, Marla continued to retreat, placing one foot behind the other, gradual and sure. They were here, in the darkness, and they were waiting, but why did they not rush out earlier and why had Will left her here? Marla frowned. Nothing made sense any more. Am I going to die here?

  Snap out of it!

  Pushing her negative thoughts behind the barricade in her mind where she shelved every damn fear and every little thing that fought to crush her, Marla stepped backwards. There would be no way out of here. No windows, no doors… unless… She glanced to the sides, thinking. If this was a storeroom, there might be a back door somewhere for deliveries. But she was in the basement and surely if there were deliveries they would gain access at ground level?

  Marla shook her head as she surveyed the area. In the stillness an object fell, hitting the ground with a crash. It sounded metal. Whatever had been concealing itself was on the move. She backed into a shelving unit with a start and looked up, expecting the boxes to collapse, but somehow they stayed put. Her legs quivered and she steeled herself.

  It’s only the dark, she told herself, but it was the thing she had feared most as a child; something she had learned to live with, adjust to, overcome, yet here she felt lost. In this maze it was as if she were nine again, hiding in the darkness, waiting for the bogeyman to leave. No, I will not give in to that; I will not let him in again. She widened her eyes in the gloom, seeking to see through the grey-brown fog. The air seemed to grow heavier. Sliding… a sliding sound, like a dragging motion along the ground… approaching, but from where?

  Gripping the knife with an urgency that made her imagine snapping it, Marla stepped back behind the shelving unit and peeked around the side. She cursed the fact that she had left her torch in her rucksack and the spare gun. Whatever Will was up to, Martinez didn’t play a part in it, that much she realised. He had been as taken aback as she was and he allowed her to keep her knife whereas Will would have taken it. How she despised the man, but why had he left her here? Surely, he could not have been acting on his own initiative? He had no reason to hate her that much. Or was he playing? Was this some kind of test, because she stood up to him and questioned him? Was the man that arrogant? But the others would notice her missing, she reasoned. Tommy would ask where she…

  Low gasps came in an uneven rhythm. Marla backed away from the end of the shelving unit, even though she knew it was useless as the thing would smell her. She quietened her own breathing and waited with her knife ready for the attack that would come, as inevitable as night would turn to day. The only other option was to make a run for the stairs, but the dead-looker would see her and follow, and if there were more of them she would find herself trapped at the top most probably.

  Will would have barricaded that door, she guessed, unless he managed to find the key for it. Nothing surprised her. She wondered if it had always been a trap and he had all the keys. The whole idea of them coming here to get books had been ludicrous from the start. Marla’s eyes widened as the dead thing came into view.

  It crawled. She now understood the sweeping and dragging she had heard. It had no legs and only arms with which it struggled to heave itself along the floor. It craned its neck back, setting off a series of cracks that splintered the silence, all the while staring up at her, its eyes jet-black wells in the dark.

  Marla stepped back, staring at the gaping mouth that emptied the bloodcurdling gasps into the space between them. How could it not be suffering? Its spine wriggled, reminding her of a snake, the end of it sticking morbidly upwards while its entrails swirled around it. Who did you used to be? Taking a step forward, she rammed her knife into its forehead as it gasped its last, the head caving to the ground.

  Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Marla bent down and tugged the knife out of the skull and wiped it along the boxes on the shelf. For some reason she suspected there were more; there always were. She was never that lucky.

  Stepping over the creature, she blinked in the dark and walked into the central space between the rows of metal units. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the bleak light and she could see a little further, but not much. Still, it was something. To acclimatise even a little there had to be an opening letting in light somewhere, yet it was impossible to tell where. Perhaps there was a ventilation hole or a small window down here. Marla stood perfectly still and listened. All she could hear was her own rushing heartbeat and jagged breath, so she tried to calm them and focus on anything over the top of it. For five minutes she waited. Nothing stirred.

  Turning, she wandered back to the staircase at the entrance and stepped as quietly as possible to the top. There was the source of the tiniest light – a slight gap around the door. She tried the handle, but although it turned, the door did not open. So he definitely had a key, the bastard. Leaning her back against the door, Marla saw nothing with which to ram it open. The idea was perfectly pointless as the door opened out this way anyhow
. Useless indeed.

  Realising the area was a dead end and potential death zone if anything decided to keep her company, Marla straightened up and headed back down the stairs. At the bottom she stopped and listened to the silence. Still, there were no new sounds, but the only way to know for sure was to check the entire basement and perhaps there might even be a way out. Nodding, she willed herself onwards to walk the entire length of the space. In every direction the heavy darkness swam out from only a couple of metres away.

  With each step, she looked from left to right as far as she could see, and listened. If the dead were there, they would come for her, smelling her flesh. She knew that. They would not be able to resist. Like the torso, they would be driven towards her like a moth to a flame. Marla glanced down at her knife. As dangerous as a flame? She thought of Tommy hurling the burning magazines into the crowd of dead-lookers in the shop and the reminiscence made her sad. Next she thought of her sister and sighed. It slammed into the stillness like a drum and she halted, staring wide eyed into the dark. Straining her ears, she waited, but no response came.

  Another step forward and then she began to stride with more purpose, checking to and fro, back and forth, unrelenting, looking out for them, always ready, or so she hoped. Will they know I’m alone? They have no reasoning, she reminded herself. Every small echo of her boots made her cringe inside, yet she kept going, right to the very far end of the basement where complete darkness reigned.

  As she came up against a cold, brick wall, Marla spotted two doors, one either side of her, positioned directly opposite one another. There were no signs. She leaned against the wall and stared forwards as far as she could, squinting, and wishing she had some kind of animal vision; the eyes of an eagle.