Exhaling loudly, he realised he had been holding his breath, the stench in the carriage having become overpowering. In such close proximity to his fellow travellers, it dawned on him that the smell emanated from their skin, which, he had also noticed during the huddle, was cooler than he would have expected. A few of the people in his compartment slowly turned their heads to look at him, registering no emotion. Everyone’s skin was ashen, it didn’t matter their ethnicity, it was noticeable that they were all beginning to look the same; cadaverous.
Shivering involuntarily, he looked down the platform. Only one other set of doors had opened, although the yellow unlock light was lit on all the carriages. A suited man jumped from the carriage ahead of him and ran for the gates. Deciding prudence was the better part of valour in this instance, Daniel, too, ran down the platform, hoping to find some staff that could help the passengers. Passing down the train, he looked into each successive carriage and noticed a few people had finally stood up, recovered from the sudden stop. Several appeared to have bloody noses, but Daniel put that down to the accident. It was the only thing that made sense, surely.
Arriving at the exit gates, there was almost no-one to be seen, certainly no staff. His footsteps echoed eerily in the empty hall. First day back in the office after the Christmas break, there should have been queues of commuters exiting the ticket barriers, hurrying to make their way out of the station to their offices, where coffees and conversation waited. What the hell’s going on, he asked himself. At least there was no-one to receive the penalty fare.
“Sod this, I’m out of here,” he told himself. Vaulting over the passenger barriers, and hearing no shouted objections, Daniel began jogging down the steps, and rushed out into the street. Thank God for dress down offices; it meant decent running shoes could be worn, instead of the blue suit and black leather Oxfords normally expected of a man of his seniority. A sneaking feeling crept up on him that he would need good running shoes today.
Outside the station, along the length of the main road, large groups of commuters were milling aimlessly, with no apparent sense of purpose. In a state of near panic now, he ran to the office, dodging people as he went. It wasn’t very far along the main road before his building finally came into view. Crossing the road, he sprinted to the front doors and burst through them, grateful to have arrived at last.
“Safe,” he told himself.
Chapter 2
Realisation
Skidding to a halt in the foyer of the building, Daniel mentally regrouped, and walked over to the reception desk. The lass sitting behind it was a pretty young girl. She looked like the sort that would care more for her nails than the job she was hired to do, and would only help if it didn’t impact her busy social schedule. Not today, the poor thing looked like death warmed up; her hair dishevelled like a bad wig, her face was the colour of cigarette ash, and her eyes were bloodshot with dark rings below them, accentuating their large, doe-like appearance. The overall impression was that of an evil Betty Boop. He had seen the symptoms before, about a thousand times before in fact, and all just this morning. Her stare was vacant; he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t always like that, so paying little attention to her gaze, he tried to engage her in conversation.
“Hello. Hello? Are you okay? You don’t look very well.” No response. “Hello.” He waved his hand in front of her; her eyes began to follow it as he moved it back and forth. Thinking he was getting her attention, he withdrew it again, not wanting to appear too rude. She returned to vacant mode. “Bloody hell,” he said, and tried one last parting comment, speaking slowly so she might understand, “I’m going up to my office. Thanks for your help.” Nothing.
Giving up, he walked to the lifts and pressed the up button. The Perspex index board hanging on the wall showed that his company resided on the third floor. Good, didn’t need her assistance after all. A small bell rang, and the lift door in front of him opened. It revealed a man standing in the middle of the mirrored chamber, just staring unblinkingly forward.
“Excuse me, are you getting out?” Daniel asked him. Blank stare, ashen face. He sighed, “another one, damn. Right, I’m taking the stairs,” he said, talking to himself once again. Be damned if I’m ending up trapped in a confined space with this guy, Daniel thought to himself.
The stairs were to the right of the lift column, so he began trudging up the six flights to his floor. En route, Daniel called Janet on his mobile phone. She picked up on the fourth ring, by which time he was getting anxious.
“Hello?” her voice came over the earpiece, much to his relief.
“Hi, love. I’m sure glad to hear your voice.”
“Are you alright?” she asked, concern edging into her tone.
“I’m okay. It’s everyone else I’m worried about. Something’s wrong.”
“What? Listen, I’m just about to go around to the library. I won’t be long. Was your train journey okay for a first day?” She wasn’t listening, or couldn’t hear what he said. Bloody mobile phones, he thought, such a high expectation of cellular technology, and as always, so little delivered.
“Listen to me, something’s wrong today. There’s …” The phone line crackled in his ear.
“Sorry Danny, I can’t hear you. The signal is crap. Look, I won’t be long, an hour at most. I’ll take my mobile in case you need to get in touch. Love you.” The line went dead.
“Fuck,” he said, trying to redial. An engaged signal greeted him. “Shit.”
He ran the last three flights, and came to the entrance door. It was slightly ajar. It should have been locked, accessed only by key card. Feeling rather more nervous than could be explained, he gingerly pushed at the door, opening it just enough to get into the reception area.
“Hey, Danny. Welcome!” Daniel jumped at the voice coming from behind him. It was Rob, his American associate, and friend.
“Jeez, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Daniel replied, gasping as he fell against the reception desk.
“What’s up?” Rob was always an upbeat, relaxed kind of guy, perhaps a little too much waist-height padding, but typical for most IT systems workers. He compensated for all that time in front of a computer screen by using the gym every day, and was surprisingly fit in spite of his daytime immobility. He had a small beard, and his hair was thinning on top. Daniel liked to rib him about it, professing that his hair had slipped down his face. This was never said within hitting distance, though; Rob was quite a bit bigger.
“There’s some weird stuff going on out there. I can’t explain it.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been here for a couple of days and last night, sorting out the servers, ready for business.”
“You didn’t do anything for New Year’s? Bloody hell, that’s dedication.” Rob just smiled, calculating the overtime he’d made while his friend was getting pissed, along with ninety nine per cent of the world.
“Maybe you did the right thing, in the end,” Daniel acceded, “whatever’s going on out there, it’s giving me the creeps. Have you seen the receptionist downstairs?”
“No. When I got here the desk was empty. I used my key to get in,” he said, holding up a plastic magnetic card.
“Is there anyone else in yet?”
“I think I heard someone a little while ago. Let’s go see.”
Daniel was grateful to have Rob’s company as they walked the length of the corridor, looking in each office as they passed it. They saw no-one.
“Strange, I could have sworn I’d heard someone.” Rob said, looking bemused.
“I noticed the front door was open a bit when I arrived. Perhaps whoever it was went out again?” Daniel offered, hopefully. Somehow he didn’t want anyone else to be there. He had the distinct impression that he and Rob were two of the few normal people around right now.
At that moment, they heard a cistern flush. The sound came from the women’s lavatory. They both turned to face the door, Daniel’s nervousness passing to Rob; fear and yawning both being highl
y infectious to humans. They waited, holding their breath. They could hear clumsy footsteps. Whoever it was sounded like they were struggling, trying to walk. A thump reverberated against the door, making the two jump backwards; it sounded as if the person had fallen against it in an effort to stand upright.
Slowly the door began to open. It was Marilyn, the office administrator. Rob and Daniel let out a collective sigh of relief - and then looked again. Rob’s jaw fell open; this was his first encounter with one of the sick today. For Daniel, his stomach lurched; he had thought he was safe in the office.
Poor Marilyn, she looked dreadful; pretty much the same as the rest of those unfortunate souls Daniel had seen so far, except there was a spark of recognition in her eyes when she saw her colleagues. As she smiled, drunkenly so it seemed, her dry, cracked lips stuck to her teeth, her vivid scarlet lipstick smudged all around her mouth, as if it had been put on from the other side of the room.
“Hi, guys,” she gurgled, and then coughed. Her throat appeared partially blocked, her ability to speak was almost gone. The coughing spasm continued, racking her body until the two men winced at the sound; it had to be painful. Suddenly, blood gushed from her mouth, a glistening pool collecting at her feet. It was an omnium gatherum of strange viscous red and green fluid, a bizarre mixture of blood, bile and thick, stringy green saliva.
“Bloody hell,” Daniel exclaimed. “Let’s get you sitting down, quickly.” He put a hand under her left arm and Rob stood to the right, holding her from the other side. Gently they half-dragged, half-carried her semi-conscious form to the nearest office, and helped her into a chair near the door.
“Can you get her some water, Rob? You know where all the facilities are.”
“Sure thing,” Rob said and left the room, somewhat grateful to be away from the appalling sight of the woman. Blood and drool had begun to stream down her front, her white silk blouse taking on an unfashionable emergency room look.
She was trying to talk, but nothing other than a slight hiss and some gurgling could be heard.
“Don’t try to speak,” Daniel said gently, trying to stop her from exerting her lungs. Marilyn was fading fast, her eyelids drooping now, and head nodding as the last vestiges of muscular control were lost. With a final death rattle, she sighed her last and her body went slack. Daniel caught her as she slumped down in her seat, and laid her gently on the ground next to the chair.
Rob dashed back into the room and came up short, seeing the girl lying on the floor.
“Damn, she’s gone. Isn’t she.” A statement, not a question. Daniel just nodded, too shocked to react properly.
Looking up at last, he spoke. “We have to get out of here. Something is seriously wrong, and whatever the hell it is, I don’t want to die in the fucking office.”
“But if it’s outside, what are we going to do? Where will we go?” Rob was still uncertain, he had no idea what was going on. Going outside seemed to be the more risky option.
“I have to get back to Jan, now. She’s in danger. She’s at the bloody library.” Daniel was panicking a little, the distance between him and his wife suddenly appearing insurmountable.
“Surely the librarians aren’t that dangerous?” Rob quipped, trying to stop his friend from freaking out. He still had not comprehended the depth of their dilemma.
“What? Oh, yeah. Good joke.”
“Sorry, man. Inappropriate, I guess. Have you seen more of this shit out there? Are there more people sick like this outside?” Rob asked, trying to understand what was stressing out his buddy.
“Not like this, no. But everyone seems to be coming down with something. Janet was ill this morning, we both assumed it was a cold. I’ve got a cold, too. At least I hope it’s a cold. Is there a window here that looks out over Cannon Street? See what’s going on.”
“Yeah, follow me. I’ll show you.” They ran from the room, Rob leading the way. There was a panoramic window on the other side of reception and the view, on any other day, would have been amazingly beautiful.
Today, however, it looked like a scene from Bedlam; crowds of people milling around, some running and screaming. A few looked like they were actually being chased down by gangs, who moved like packs of wild animals, determined to bring down their prey. “Looters,” Daniel mumbled, still unconvinced. As he watched them in action, he knew it had nothing to do with stealing possessions. Perhaps this was a case of a different sort of possession; the people with this illness, for want of a better word, certainly behaved like something not of this world. How could a virus or bacteria really be responsible? Sick people were traditionally bed-bound, not running around in howling packs, tearing people apart.
“Do you think this is widespread?” Rob asked, not really expecting an answer. As if in response to his question, a huge explosion erupted on the south side of the Thames, the percussion of it shaking the window in front of them. A massive fireball hurled itself into the sky, leaving a smoky trail, so that it resembled the mushroom cloud of a small nuclear detonation.
“Bugger me!” Daniel said, voice fading as he watched the incandescent ball of smoke and flame curl into the morning sky.
“Let’s turn the telly on, see if the news is covering any of this. Someone has to know what’s going on.”
“Good idea,” Daniel agreed. They walked back to the reception area, where a sixty inch plasma screen had been hung to amuse waiting visitors. Turning it on, it was already tuned to Sky News, where they saw a talking head expounding on the latest problems in the world, views of London behind him. The volume came up, and at last they could hear what he was saying.
‘Scenes like this are being seen all over the world. Emergency services are stretched to the limit, and hastily convened calls are going on, as I speak, between the UK Prime Minister and the President of the United States as well as with the leaders of other countries. No-one has yet been able to give a definitive answer to the question on everyone’s lips, ‘what’s going on?’’
In the background, the camera switched from London to New York, where another reporter took up the story.
‘Although the scenes are frightening and there appear to be a large number of injuries, at the moment the problems appear to be limited to a relatively small area in the USA, mostly New York and some of the eastern seaboard.’
The picture switched to Mumbai, where a similar scene was unfolding, except thousands of people were on the street brawling, blood was everywhere. The lads had never seen so much blood from so many people, their facial expressions ranging from terrified to vicious, even jubilant. Daniel looked away, his stomach turning at the sight.
Rob switched the volume to mute. “I have to call Sandra, see if she’s okay.”
“Sure, Rob, that’s a good idea. I’m sure she’s fine though,” Daniel said, trying to be reassuring to his friend. “This appears to be happening a long way from Colorado.”
“Problem is, we’ve just moved. We don’t know any of the neighbours yet, and her parents aren’t even close by anymore. So without me …” he left the sentence unfinished.
“Yeah, I get it,” Daniel agreed. “We’ve gotta leave this place before it gets too bad out there, but do make that call. I don’t want you wondering if she’s okay all the way back to my place. We’ll check again when we get there.”
Rob picked up the reception phone and dialled home. A look of happiness replaced his frown as his wife picked up the receiver at the other end.
“Hi, babe. It’s me. I just wanted to call you, make sure you’re okay. I know it’s gone one in the morning. I guess you haven’t heard yet. When I hang up, turn on the TV. Something weird’s going on here and in New York. No-one can explain it,” he paused, listening, “yep. Will you stay at home and not go to work? Please? Thanks, love. I’m in the office. I’m going with Danny to his place. If I think it is getting worse, I’ll try and get a flight home, before they close the airports. Yep, I promise I’ll be careful, okay. Love you. Call you later. Bye, bye.” He hung u
p and looked at Daniel. “Right. Let’s get going.”
“First, we need a plan of action. What have we got that would work as weapons around here? I’ll be damned if I’m going out there without something to defend myself with.”
Giving it some thought, Rob replied. “We have some fire extinguishers; you could use their weight as a club, or fire them at attackers. It might give us an edge.”
“Anything else?” Danny didn’t like the idea of the extinguishers, they were a little too clumsy for a real fight.
“A couple of packing knives, some unassembled desks. The legs are steel, we could use them as bats.”
“Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
Together they collected their makeshift arsenal. It still felt like a lightweight proposition as far as Daniel was concerned. What he’d really love to have was a gun, a fucking big gun. And plenty of ammo. They’d just have to work with what they had to hand. Collecting their limited weaponry together, they had to pass through the reception area to leave; unfortunately Marilyn stood in their way, swaying unsteadily.
“She’s alive!” Rob said, disbelief in his tone. “She can’t be, she was dead a few minutes ago. You know she was, wasn’t she?” he asked, incredulously. She was staring fixedly at them, standing squarely between them and their escape route. Drool was pouring steadily down her front, blood was caked on the side of her face from where she had lain. It had dried in patches on her cheek and down one side of her chest, the carpet lending its texture to the dried colouring, giving her a hideous, matted appearance. A slow, malevolent hiss was escaping from her mouth, her eyes deadpan, her gaze moving uncertainly between the two men.
The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle Page 2