by CT Grey
I took another sip from the glass and then tipped it towards him as I asked: “So?”
“I—”
A scream silenced the room. I turned and saw an escort, mouth gaping open as if she was a proper scream queen, towering over a massive African man clutching his throat on the dining-room floor.
Damien jumped to his feet. “Make room,” he shouted, and waved his hand at the pale-looking waiters standing by the kitchen door: “You two – move these people away. Arthur, call an ambulance!”
Damien was already crossing the room when I finally got up and followed him, instead of heading out with the other patrons. Maybe I should have had done that, but I couldn’t. I’d more than enough expertise in these matters. However, Damien had completely forgotten that as he hovered over the African like a mother goose. He tried talking; loosening the black man’s tie and ripping his shirt open. But none of these managed to get any sort of reaction. It looked as though the man was nearing the thin red line that separated the living from the dead.
“Damien.” I squatted down. “Let me.”
“Jane.” Damien gripped my shoulder. “Stay away from this!”
“Damien.” I looked at him fiercely. “Have you lost last all of your marbles and completely forgotten what I do these days?”
For a moment or two he stared me blankly, and then he moved his hand from my shoulder and said: “Jane. I’m sorry. I didn’t—“
I raised one hand to silence him, while I felt the African’s pulse. It was so weak. So barely functioning, but it was still there; nevertheless I couldn’t say the same thing about his ability to breathe. And there was the strange substance oozing out of his mouth.
I stuck two fingers in his mouth. At first, I couldn’t feel anything other than his teeth and the slippery tongue that felt burning hot to my touch. Then, suddenly, there it was, something hard and very solid at the back of his throat.
I turned to Damien and asked: “Could you please help me to turn him over?”
“Sure, sure,” Damien said. He took hold of the man’s jacket and pushed him onto his side. I rested his head against my knee and opened his mouth. “Slap him hard on the back.” And as Damien looked at me questioningly I added: “Now, if you don’t mind.”
Damien rolled his eyes and then slapped black man’s back as if he was made of porcelain. Nothing happened. I gave Damien a nod and said: “Do it again. And do it properly.”
“Jane...”
“Don’t ask, just do it,” I said, and then added quietly: “If you want to save his life.”
Damien looked at me as if I’d gone mental, then he slammed his hand on black man’s back with all his might. Something flew out of his mouth. It bounced a couple of times on the carpet and then came to rest against a chair leg.
“That’s a bone.” Damien squinted. “A bloody chicken bone. ARTHUR!”
While he continued calling his butler, I focused my attention on the patient, as I couldn’t understand why he was still unconscious, even though we had removed the object blocking his airways. Was there something else wrong? Was it the foamy substance?
I brought some of to my nostrils only to find out that it didn’t smell strange, not even revolting, but more like an extraordinarily pleasing truffle-sauce that one of Damien’s chefs had whipped up in the kitchen.
“Sir.” Arthur ran back into the dining hall. “The ambulance is on its way.”
“Good,” Damien stood up and shoved his hand under Arthur’s nose. “Now, can you tell me what this is?”
“It’s a bone sir,” Arthur answered just as I noticed blue lights flashing at the windows. “A chicken bone, to be precise.”
“Exactly,” Damien spat out. “It was stuck in his throat for no apparent reason, and to be honest I cannot understand how it had got there, when I had given a specific order to move all bones from...”
I closed my ears to Damien’s explosion of temper, as I realised that, over the years, he’d not changed in any way. In fact, I could swear that under all that pompous acting, he was still the same old bastard I’d left behind. And I wouldn’t be surprised if in fact the man on the floor had something to do with Damien’s organisation. And that really got me thinking why he’d asked me to be here in the first place, when the two paramedics pushed a gurney next to us. I turned my head and saw two familiar faces.
“Jane,” Robert said. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s a good question,” I answered. “A very good question indeed.”
In the corner of my eye I saw Damien’s stance stiffening. He pulled Arthur and another of his men to one side as Jeff squatted beside me.
“Right,” Robert said as if my answer didn’t even matter anything to him. And why should it, when it was the patient’s life that mattered most. “So, what’s the story?”
“A piece of chicken bone,” I answered as Jeff pulled open the black man’s eyelid and flashed light into his eyes. “But there must be something else as he’s not showing any sign of recovery.”
“Rob,” Jeff said suddenly. “He’s one of them.”
“One of what?” I asked.
“Are you sure?” Robert looked at his partner questioningly.
“Positive.” Jeff nodded vehemently. “He has all of the signs: murky eyes, laborious breathing and an almost non-existent pulse.”
“What about the fever?”
Jeff touched the patient’s forehead with his surgical gloved hand and nodded.
“Right.” Robert dropped his bag and started to unfolding the gurney’s straps. “Let’s bag him then and wheel him into the nearest A&E.”
“Guys.” I lowered my voice. “What is going on?”
“Jane.” Jeff looked me in the eyes. “The whole city has gone bat-shit crazy. And we don’t know what’s wrong, but I can tell you that he’s not the first one, and to be honest, I don’t think he’s going to be the last one either.”
The last words came out as a whisper. A frightened whisper, to which I didn’t have time to react, as I heard a dull beep coming out from my handbag. And as I pulled out my pager Robert uttered under his breath: “I bet a tenner they’re calling you in.”
He was right. Absolutely so, as when I saw the 999 emergency code crossing my pager’s display I knew that something had gone terribly wrong. It was the first time I had seen them using it, so I had no other choice but to act. “Where are you taking him?”
“Don’t know yet,” Jeff answered. “To yours I guess, as it’s the nearest.”
“Right, could I get a lift?”
Jeff looked Robert and then nodded, “If that’s what you want.”
I nodded, took my handbag and grabbed the side of the stretcher at the same time as they started to move. But I didn’t get far before Damien caught my sleeve and asked, “Where do you think you are going?”
“To work,” I snapped at him, “Where else?”
“But we haven’t finished here—“
“Oh, I think we have,” I said. “I still don’t know what your reason for inviting me here was, but I’ve got work to do.”
“Jane,” he sighed, while I saw relief spreading across Arthur's face. I had saved a man, but I couldn’t save my man, or find out what his real intentions were, whatever they might have been. So I blew Arthur a kiss and left Damien looking absolutely furious in front of his patrons.
*** Henrik ***
I dropped my pen and concluded: “So, you didn’t know that the African man was one of the plague victims or that he was going to be zombified?”
“That’s right,” she said. “And if I had known he was going through necromorphosis, I would have put him down there and then. In hindsight, that’s what I should have done … among other things.”
“What about your husband?”
“What about him?” Jane lit up another smoke.
“Did he know?”
“I don’t know if he did but, judging by his behaviour, I suspect that he had no idea.”
“E
ven though you both are undead?”
Jane went absolutely quiet for a moment. There was nothing in her face to indicate what she was thinking. “What are you trying to say?”
“I... ” I began. I felt there was definitely something there that she wasn’t prepared to voice. “It’s just my suspicious nature is nagging at me like an old wife, and it’s saying that since you’re already one of them, you might be—”
“Lying?” she finished for me. “The answer is no. I’m not lying, and I’m not one of them, and being honest with you, when the African dropped on the floor, nothing of that sort even crossed my mind.”
“I see.” I moved the pen back to the first item in the list. “Then you really haven’t answered the first question: when was the first time you saw a living dead?”
*** Jane ***
When the ambulance arrived at Kensington and Chelsea Hospital, I saw the A&E entrance was blocked by a couple of ambulances, and the one in front us looked as if someone had exploded in the back of it. Literally.
“Jesus Christ,” Jeff gasped from the driver’s seat.
“Dear Lord.” I cupped a hand over my mouth when I saw all that blood. I’d never seen the back of an ambulance in such terrible shape. Not even when there were riots; it looked almost as if one of my kind had gone mental in it.
“What are you doing,” Robert shouted from the back. “Why are we sitting here?”
“Hold on, mate,” Jeff said. He popped open the front door and stepped out and I realised I just couldn’t sit there gaping at the scene like some kind of moron. I had a duty to care for others. People needed me. So I opened my door and stepped out just as Jeff and Robert were rolling the African out. But there was no help from the hospital nurses or orderlies. There was no one coming out to help us. Where was everyone?
I tucked my handbag on the side of the gurney and helped push the patient in. But we didn’t get very far.
“What the hell happened here?” Jeff asked. We saw the bloody mess was not confined to the ambulance. It spread from the vehicle, onto the road and then through the automated doors. A red carpet of gore just like the ones I’d seen in the battlefields too many times. Whatever was inside couldn’t be good.
“Ssshhh.” I raised a finger over my lips. “Wait here.”
My nerves tingled as I moved through the sliding doors and stepped into the lobby. The place was quiet. So eerily silent. It was the absolute opposite of what I’d been expecting. Instead of seeing loads of people in the waiting room I only saw an abandoned teddy bear lying on the floor next to scattered magazines and empty plastic cups.
A stench of death flushed over me as I pushed open the doors to the main department. What had started in the ambulance had only multiplied inside. Blood was everywhere. It was too much blood for my liking. It could had been used so much better at the inside of our patients instead of spraying it all over the place as if these people had been partying just like Damien had in Night of Mascaraed Owls in 1404.
And then I saw the first corpse. I couldn’t understand why they’d left him just lying there. Where was everyone? The next thing I saw was a half-naked man stuffing entrails into his mouth as he tore at a body lying in one of the bays.
I couldn’t say he was completely human. Scalpels, syringes, even a broken bottle stuck out from his flesh. But he wasn’t a vampire either. What he really was, I didn’t know. Not at that point, as the only thing I could suspect was that he was some sort of cannibal, who’d pumped himself full of angel dust, or massive painkillers.
I had to do something. I searched for a weapon as I crept closer and closer.
I shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake. A bad one, that cost me dearly when I disturbed an empty soda can. It rolled and rattled across the floor and then clonked against a bed wheel. In an instant, the cannibal lifted his head, looked over his shoulder and the moment I saw his glazed eyes, I knew he was dead.
There was no sign of a soul in him. No intelligent response. Yet, he was acting as if he was still capable of reasoning, as he sniffed the air and opened his mouth to howl. The creepy sound echoed off the walls, and immediately got a reply.
From the end of hallway leading to the emergency x-ray shuffled a paramedic. His body looked so wrong, so maligned … badly misconfigured when it tried to raise an arm that was poking the wrong way, while the other had only bloody bones hanging from ligaments, and he headed my way. Others followed him. The cannibal also started shuffling towards me.
I took a hasty step backwards, turned around and bumped against Robert’s chest. He pushed me behind him.
“What the hell are they?”
“Don’t know,” I answered. “And I don’t think we should stay here to find out.”
“All right, you’re the boss. Let’s go.”
“Lead the way,” I said, even though my instincts said I should stay behind and fight these monsters. Monsters that were more and less like me. Yet, Robert wasn’t having it. He nudged me to move and pushed me in front of him as we went back the way we came in. But we didn’t get as far as the main corridor, before we were stopped by beams of light flashing on our faces.
“Put your hands up and step against the wall!”
I did as they ordered, but Robert didn’t. Instead he started waving his hands and shouting: “It’s not us who you want. It’s them.” He pointed towards the emergency bays.
From the corner of my eye I saw the officers look at each other, and a split-second later lasers crisscrossed the air, as they aimed their weapons at Robert.
“This is your last warning!”
“Robert,” I begged quietly. “Please, do as they say. Please.”
Even though the ghastly sounds grew louder Robert gave in and faced the wall.
“Hey you!” shouted one of the police officers, his aim switching to the monstrosity coming towards us. “Stop there, or we’ll open fire.”
But the dead didn’t reply. They didn’t obey. Robert and I edged down the corridor, away from them.
“Stay where you are!”
You might ask why we didn’t risk the police firing at us, to get away from the abominations that came ever closer, but the truth is, we didn’t know what they were, what the consequences of inaction were to be. Unable to move for fear of being shot, Robert tried to lean away from them.
“Shoot, you idiots!” I shouted. They stared, frozen by their own fear. One of the undead shuffled across the corridor and grabbed Robert’s shoulder. He yelped, turned around and tried to smash his fist into the attacker. Instead, he slipped, and they slammed against me.
I collapsed to my knees and felt anger starting to bubble inside me. It wasn’t a good thing. This could not happen. Not now. I couldn’t expose my true self. I tried to force the beast inside me to back off. Robert was on the floor, fighting for his life. And the police had done nothing. They were still standing at the end of the corridor, repeating their commands louder and louder. But the dead weren’t listening.
“This is your final warning, stop fighting or…”
“Or what?” I growled, as my power ripped through me. I grabbed the nearest undead, bent him backwards like a bow, as his hands whipped in the air, trying to grasp at me. But there was nothing he could catch as I tossed him along the corridor. While he was still in the air, I spun around to the one attacking Robert and smashed my fist into the side of his head. He tumbled to the floor.
I didn’t wait for him to get back on his feet, but grabbed Robert by his overalls, and started dragging him backwards towards the police. Luckily, there was enough blood to make him slide easily. But unluckily for me, I didn’t get very far before one of my stilettos slipped. I landed in a pool of blood just as I saw the cannibal getting up.
“Hey you.” The police shone their lights. “Get back on the floor or we will open fire!”
The paramedic growled something incomprehensible, and then lurched forward, completely ignoring the command. When the police repeated the threat for third tim
e, I snapped: “What are you waiting for? Permission? Shoot for God’s sake, SHOOT!”
Out in the corner of my eye, I saw the copper nod to another. And split second later green aiming-lasers gleamed under their submachine gun barrels, before they erupted in fire. The empty casings clattered from the walls around us, and I threw myself flat, shielding Robert, and watched in horror as rounds plugged holes into the cannibal. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t fall. Instead, as the shooting stopped, he took another step forward and found gravity when his foot skidded in a pool of blood.
The cannibal fell on the floor a mere meter away from us, but still came on. He started crawling towards us. Then I heard a familiar clunk as a gun chambered a round. “Ready!”
“Shoot him, then,” the other copper said.
“What’s the point? He’s going to die in minute, yeah?”
Robert gasped as the cannibal’s fingers grasped his ankle. I could see terror in his eyes, as the dead one pulled him towards his mouth. Then I felt another set of fingers around my ankle. The grip was so strong that for a moment I couldn’t believe the creature had such strength. I lashed at it with my other foot, again and again, but couldn’t release myself.
“Kick him, Robert, kick him,” I screamed as the dead one pulled itself towards us. As his mouth opened to bite, Rob shoved his heavy duty boot forward and missed.
“How the fuck he’s able to do that?” the first copper asked behind us.
“I don’t know,” the second one answered. “But I’m not gonna stand here watching him do that again.” He took a couple hasty steps forward, tapped the submachine gun barrel at the nape of the biter’s neck just as the cannibal opened his mouth and sank his broken teeth into my ankle.
*** Henrik ***
I blinked, once, twice, as the paranoia of an unshackled zombified creature sitting opposite me engulfed my mind completely.
“The zombie bit you?” I asked. “An actual zo-zom-zombie bit you?”
“Yes darling.” Jane nodded innocently. “You heard me correctly. An actual zombie bit me.” She breathed smoke out and leaned forward. “The bastard actually sank his rotten teeth in my ankle. The pain… the pain was excruciating, believe me!”