The BIG Horror Pack 2

by Iain Rob Wright

  Joe headed back to the monkey. It was holding the bag above its head like a trophy, hooting as though boasting some great victory over Joe.

  That bag belongs to me, you little fleabag.

  Joe decided the only tactic he had at his disposal was surprise. He rushed the monkey and made a quick snatch for the handbag. His fingers found the strappy handle and clenched tight. The monkey pulled back. A tug of war ensued.

  “Let go, you bastard!” Joe pulled with all of his might and managed to dislodge both the monkey and the handbag. Both hurtled across the room before skidding on the blood soaked tiles. Joe sprinted towards them.

  “Joe, stop!” Bill shouted. “Get back!”

  Joe halted, heels skidding in a pool of blood. He looked at Bill and shrugged. “What?”

  Lined up in the outdoor entrance were the four lions that had ripped so many people apart just days before. They seemed even bigger than before and even more blood stained their snouts. Joe’s spine damn near froze stiff, but he somehow managed to take a slow step toward Grace’s bag. Before he could take another, the lions made their move.

  Joe dodged to the left just as one of the lionesses made a swipe at him.

  “Damn it!” Bill shouted again. “Get out of there, now!”

  Joe didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted so fast that his hamstrings felt as though they might snap away from his bone; but he kept the pace, dodging and leaping between tables like a twenty-year old parkour practitioner on the streets of Paris.

  Bill sprang forward, litter spike in hand. He aimed a thrust at the nearest lion just as it was about to take Joe down. The animal roared and fell back in an injured hunch, bleeding from a puckering wound in its chest.

  Joe grabbed Bill by his arm and pulled him along. The two men dashed for the corridor, dashing through the open red door. Joe could hear the pounding of thick paws behind him and was sure that it was only a matter of seconds before he felt their overwhelming weight bear down on him.

  We’re screwed.

  Bill reached the staffroom first, a few steps ahead of Joe. Somehow, the older man was fitter and faster. Joe barrelled through after him, felt his legs weaken as exertion began to take its toll.

  Inside the staffroom, things were even worse.

  The monkeys had taken over the room again, teeming in through the broken windows. They were the larger species from before – Macaques; the ones that had chased everyone upstairs on the day it all started.

  Joe turned to retreat, but found himself faced with the lions coming up the corridor. “Shit, what do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” said Bill, swiping at whichever monkey dared get too close to him. “We’re surrounded.”

  The lions closed in behind them. The monkeys came at them from the front. They were trapped. Joe thought about Danny – he wanted his last thoughts to be about his son.

  “We’re screwed,” said Bill. “Totally screwed.”

  “Not yet you’re not,” came a voice from across the room.

  Both men looked over to see Mason at the foot of the stairwell. He was holding something in his hand. Before Joe could work out what it was, Mason had already thrown it.

  The firebomb sailed through the air.

  It landed smack-bang amongst the monkeys. They shrieked and screamed as the flames clung to them. The smell of burning fur consumed the air and stung Joe’s eyes.

  “Run for it!” Mason shouted.

  Joe and Bill dodged through the flailing monkeys and managed to cut a route towards Mason. The lions stayed back, unnerved by the flames and unable to overcome their primal fear of it. It seemed like an eternity to reach the door, but eventually Joe and Bill made it there. They piled through into the corridor and all three of them immediately set about rebuilding the barricade. During that time, Joe heard the sprinkler system come on in the staff room. The fires would go out. The animals would attack again soon.

  Need to hurry.

  The barricade was up. All three men let out long, laboured breaths. Joe felt as though the acid in his oesophagus was about to burn right through his chest. Bill looked even worse. In fact, the older man had collapsed to the floor.

  It was then that Joe spotted all of the blood.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Randall shook his fist at Victor, could barely contain his anger. “Why did you let Mason leave? If Joe wanted to take a silly risk than that’s his decision, but Mason is an expert on the zoo, and animals in general. Do you not think he needed to be kept out of harm’s way?”

  Victor’s hackles were up and he obviously didn’t appreciate being shouted at. Randall didn’t care – the man should not have made a decision without consulting him first. There was a chain of command and it needed to be respected.

  Victor cleared his throat, an aggressive sound. “Listen, pal! Mason wanted to go after Joe and the queer, and I had no right to stop him. We’re not prisoners here. It’s a man’s own choice to do what he thinks is right.”

  Randall backed off a little, deciding a different tactic was required. “Of course we’re not prisoners, Victor, but you said yourself that if you hear any trouble downstairs then the barricade stays in place. So why did you move it for Mason?”

  “I said I wasn’t about to let anyone back inside if I heard trouble. I didn’t say anything about letting people out. Besides, I guess I changed my mind. Sounded like Joe and the queer needed help, so I gave it to them.”

  Randall sighed. “And what if all three of them are now dead? Mason’s loss will be because of you.”

  “Fuck that! Mason is old enough to make his own decisions. I’m not his keeper.”

  “Perhaps you should be!”

  “What you talking about?”

  Randall placed a hand on Victor’s bony shoulder. “Victor, it’s just us now. Keep this to yourself, but I managed to make a call on my phone to the emergency services.”

  Victor’s eyes narrowed. “What phone?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that when I called 999 and there was an automated message saying that no help is available and that people should barricade themselves in their homes.”

  “Aye, well that would be sound advice.”

  “But don’t you get it? If there’s no police force then what hope do ordinary people have? How many people have dogs in their homes?”

  Victor thought about things for a while, rubbing his hand back and forth over the stubble of his head. “Shit, pal. That’s grim thinking.”

  “But realistic, I’m afraid. We are alone in this and we cannot afford to take risks. We need to take control of the situation and keep people safe.”

  “How the hell do we keep people safe? The world’s gone down the crapper.”

  “By keeping them under control. From now on, no one does anything without me agreeing to it. I’m in charge, for the simple fact that I am the only one looking at the big picture. Everyone else is being far too rash and emotional for their own good.”

  “And what if people don’t want to follow your lead?”

  Randall smiled. “That’s where you come in, my friend. I give the orders – you make sure they’re followed. It’s the only way to keep everyone alive. That’s what counts more than anything right now – that we all get through this in one piece. It may seem harsh but it’s the only way. We need to have control.”

  Victor nodded slowly. Randall could see the conviction flowing into the man like juice into a beaker. “Okay, boss. I agree. We have to keep everyone in check for their own good. No more running off half-cocked or doing their own thing. From now on, everything that happens goes through us.”

  Randall patted him on the back. “Good man. They’ll thank you for it later, my fri-”

  “Help us!”

  Randall looked through the gaps in the barricade and saw Mason coming up the stairs, followed by Joe who seemed to be carrying Bill over his shoulder.

  Mason cried out again. “Let us through. Bill is injured. We need help.”
<
br />   “Did any critters get through with you?” asked Victor.

  “No. We got the barricade back in place. It’s safe.”

  “Bloody better be,” said Victor, sliding furniture out of the way.

  Mason rushed through the gap and Joe followed, still holding the other man over his shoulder.

  “Come on,” said Randall. “Let’s get him into the lab.”

  The group of men hurried along the corridor and entered the veterinary lab. Randall noticed all of the blood-stained cages that lined the room, but was impressed that there were no remains of the animals that Victor had slaughtered. He’d even disposed of the harmless birds.

  The man is efficient, got to give him that. God knows where he’s put all the ‘meat’ though.

  Joe eased an unconscious Bill down onto the stainless steel operating table and Randall saw the man’s injury for the first time. The back of one leg was split down the middle so deep that it lay open like a ketchup-filled baguette.

  “My word, what happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Joe. “I think he must have got slashed by one of the lions when we were running. He must not have felt how bad it was in all the panic.”

  “Makes sense,” said Grace, entering the room. “Adrenaline does that.”

  Randall frowned. “What are you doing here, my dear? You should be resting, not getting involved in gruesome things like this.”

  Grace dismissed Randall with a wave of her hand.

  Insolent Bitch!

  “I can help,” she said, moving up beside Bill. “I have a bit of experience with stitching wounds”

  “Really?” said Victor. “How’s that?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve seen my fair share of wounds.”

  Randall cleared his throat. “Didn’t you learn first aid in the army, Victor?”

  The man shrugged. “First aid, yes, but not how to suture a wound like this. I could give it a stab, but if the lass says she knows best then I would say she is the one to do it.”

  Randall didn’t trust what Grace was claiming, but what could he do? If she purported herself as being able to manage the wound then on her head be it. “Okay,” he said. “Then I suggest she gets to work before Bill loses anymore blood.”

  Grace nodded. “The bleeding doesn’t seem to be arterial, so we just need to clean the wound and close it to prevent infection. I need someone to get some of the ethanol we’ve been using for the firebombs, and the cleanest cloths we can find. Mason, do you know if we have a suture kit in here?”

  Mason nodded and went to the side of the room. Victor headed for the door in what Randall assumed was a trip to go and get the alcohol. Grace went to work on Bill, tearing away the clothing from his wound and then elevating the leg on a cardboard box full of printing paper.

  “You obviously have things under control here, my dear. I will leave you to it.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Joe. “I need to look after Danny. With Grace here, he’ll be alone with Shirley.”

  Randall smiled. “I’m sure he’s more than safe with Shirley.”

  Joe huffed. “Are you crazy? That woman is unstable.”

  “I admit that she is a little…eccentric, but we have no right to judge. We are all part of the same team now and I won’t abide malcontent.”

  “You won’t abide it?” said Joe. “You’re not really in a position to--”

  “Joe, we can discuss it later. In fact, I think it would be best if we all spoke as a group at the next opportunity. For now, it would be best to take my advice and not rock the boat. If we start to bicker amongst ourselves things will fall apart.”

  Joe shoved Randall aside. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things have already fallen apart!”

  Randall waited a few moments and then followed Joe out into the corridor.

  As long as there is order, things have nowhere near fallen apart. That is a lesson you will have to learn, Joe, my friend. Whether you agree with it or not.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Who the hell does that guy think he is? Joe couldn’t believe the way Randall acted as though he was in charge, strutting along like he was at a business conference and everyone else was a subordinate. They were all in this nightmare together and no one had the right to tell anyone else how to think.

  Especially when it concerns my son and that nutcase, Shirley.

  Joe found Shirley standing at the window of the seminar room. Danny stood beside her. They were holding hands and chatting amongst themselves.

  Joe shouted. “Danny! Come here.”

  Danny jumped at the sudden sound of his father’s voice and twirled around like a spinning top. “Dad, you’re okay! You shouldn’t have left.”

  “Of course I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  Danny ran over and wrapped his arms around Joe and squeezed. Over by the window Shirley turned around casually and smiled sagely.

  “I’m glad you returned safe and sound, Joe,” she said. “That’s a fine boy you have there.”

  Joe clutched Danny tighter, running a hand underneath one of the straps of his backpack. “Yes, I know. Thank you. What were the two of you doing anyway? I don’t like him being by the window.”

  “We were talking about the nasty animals,” Danny answered. “Mrs. Shirley told me that God has told them to attack us because we’ve all been bad. She told me about Noah and his boat and that this is the same sort of thing that happened hundreds of years ago, except this time the animals are the water.”

  “Noah had an ark, Danny,” Shirley corrected, “not a boat. Try to remember. Facts are important.”

  Joe felt his skin glow red beneath his clothing. “Keep your self-righteous bullshit to yourself, Shirley. My son doesn’t need to hear things like that.”

  Danny stared up at him, wide-eyed. Joe felt guilty over his display of bad language in front of his son, but still felt it was warranted. Shirley didn’t seem so shocked and took the insult in her stride.

  “On the contrary,” she said calmly. “I believe it is of the utmost importance that your son learns about the world he has inherited. Of all of us, he is the only one without sin. He is the only one with any chance to continue on in this vile landscape of sin and sodomy.”

  “Enough!” Joe took Danny away, heading for the furthest corner of the room. “Just leave my son alone, okay?”

  “You cannot hide him from the truth and you cannot hide the truth from him. Judgement has been passed and he is paying for your transgressions.”

  Joe kept on walking. Bloody fruitloop. What world is she living in? Dante’s Inferno, by the sound of it.

  Danny dove onto a pile of cushions, performing a messy elbow drop like one of his wrestling idols. Joe sat down beside him. “You okay, buddy?”

  Danny nodded emphatically. “I’m super-duper… Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why were you mean to Mrs. Shirley?”

  Joe sighed. How did you explain it to a child? “She’s a bit mixed up, Danny, and I don’t want her to tell you things that are silly. Sometimes adults can get stuff wrong, too.”

  “She was just telling me stories.”

  Joe tussled Danny’s hair. “I know, son. Just promise me you won’t listen to her anymore, okay? If you want a story then just ask me.”

  Danny nodded, but seemed to be thinking about something. “Mommy used to tell me stories.”

  Joe felt a knot in his stomach, tying and untying itself with every breath. “I know she used to. You’re mommy was a lovely lady.”

  Was? Dammit, I should have said ‘is’.

  Danny didn’t seem to pick up on the past tense. “When can I go home and see her? I want to tell her about all of the animals, and how you’ve been saving everybody. Maybe if I tell her she’ll like you again.”

  Joe thought about that. It had been so long since there had been anything but acrimony between him and Jane that the thought of her being proud of him was alien – but the notion was
a comforting one. It was fantasy, though, because Joe knew that Danny’s mother was dead. She had to be. No way could she have survived.

  “Dad? When can I go home?”

  “I don’t think we can go home just yet, Danny. At least not for a little while.”

  “But what about Mommy? She’ll be missing me, and she’ll be mad at you. I don’t like it when she’s mad at you.”

  Me either, son. Me either.

  Joe pulled Danny in close across his lap and stroked his soft blond hair. “She’ll understand. She won’t be mad as long as we keep ourselves safe.”

  “She’s dead isn’t she?”

  Hearing such a thing from his son – and so suddenly – was like an unexpected punch to the gut.

  What on Earth do I say? Is it kinder to lie?

  Joe thought about things for almost a full minute before he gave an answer. “Yes, Danny, I think she probably is. I’m sorry. I loved her too.”

  Beneath his breath, Danny began whispering names, sobbing between each one. “Bulldog, Owen Hart, Andre the Giant, Miss Elizabeth, Macho Man, Texas Tornado, Bam Bam Bigelow, Luna Vachon, Earthquake, Bossman, Yokozuna, Mr Perfect, Rick Rude, Mommy.” Joe knew that each name his son said was a wrestling hero that had passed away tragically. And he had just added his mother to that list.

  ***

  One hour later, Grace entered the room. Joe sighed with relief. He wanted to know what was going on, to see if Bill was okay, but he wasn’t about to leave Danny alone with Shirley again. Now that Grace was here he could find out.

  “He’s going to be okay,” she said before he even had chance to ask. “At least I think so. The wound looked worse than it was and I managed to clean it up and stitch it pretty well.”

  Joe tipped his head back and let out a long hiss of air before looking at Grace and smiling. “That’s such a relief. We all owe you. How did you learn to stitch wounds?”

  Grace turned away from him and looked at the ground.

  Joe quickly understood. She knows because of having to stitch her own self-inflicted wounds.

  Grace came and sat on the cushions beside Joe and Danny. She placed a hand on his knee. “I hate to ask, after what you did for me, but did you manage to--”