The Fall of Society (Book 2): The Fight of Society

by Rand, Thonas

  He drove past scenes of murder and savagery, the infection was spreading faster than he thought possible, much too fast. Many dead runners gave the car a go, but Paul sped by them, running over a few of them. He drove on and, a few miles later, the streets were clear of the undead. He kept on going to reach his destination. The Mini crossed the River Thames, Paul glanced at the waters, seeing many boats, and passenger ferries filled with people unaware of what was coming. They looked inviting and he wished that he and Katie were on one.

  After driving for a few minutes, he got where he wanted to be. He turned into a neighborhood street and went down a couple of blocks, and came upon something he wasn’t expecting to see, something he dreaded seeing—a police car—which might be a welcome sight in this situation, but not one that was parked over the sidewalk and covered in blood.

  Paul slowed down to get a good look at the abandoned car. No police were in sight, but that didn’t surprise him—he knew whom the car belonged to. It was the car of the officer Paul tried to get help from back at the crash site, the officer that was attacked by the undead and drove away after being bitten by one of them. The driver door was open and the seat, steering wheel, and dashboard were smeared in red. With so much blood, it didn’t look possible that the officer survived and Paul realized that most likely he didn’t. He looked all over for any sign of him, but no one was in sight, no one at all and that bothered Paul. He didn’t wait around to see who would show up, but stepped on the gas and sped off.

  On the next block, Paul stopped in front of an old flat high-rise. There was no place to park so he left the car in the middle of the street as he got out and ran inside.

  He climbed the stairs as fast as his weary legs could carry him and, after ascending four floors, ran down the hall until he reached a certain door and pounded his fists on it. No one answered so he banged on the door harder and someone opened it mid-pounding. “Bloody hell, what is it!” the slightly chubby man who opened the door shouted and recognized Paul immediately, even though he looked terrible. “Paul?”

  “Yes, Henry,” Paul said and hurried in past him.

  Two girls were watching television in the living room of the small flat; their eyes glued to the news reports from the crash site of the Airbus A380. Their faces were constricted in confusion from the raw video of people attacking other people and eating their flesh. “It has to be a hoax,” the young brunette said. “Some kind of sick joke.”

  Without taking her eyes from the screen, Katie said, “I don’t think so, Linda.”

  Paul walked in and when Katie saw him her eyes widened and her jaw dropped; she couldn’t believe he was there. She rushed over and embraced him tightly. Paul was sore all over and tried not to moan from pain, but he did wince. Even though it hurt to be held by Katie, it was the best thing that he’d felt in a while.

  “Paul, what are you doing here?”

  “I came back for you, Katie.”

  Katie let go and got a good look at him—he was a disaster. “What happened to you?”

  Paul pointed at the television with the gun in his hand, “I was on that flight.”

  “What?” Katie said incredulously. “How is that possible?”

  “Where did you get the firearm, Paul?” Linda asked.

  “From the air marshal on the flight.”

  The three of them couldn’t comprehend what Paul said. “Wait a bloody minute!” Henry said. “You were on that flight?”

  “Yes.”

  “So it’s not a hoax, then?” Linda said.

  “How many others survived besides you?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know, I think I’m the only one.”

  “But what about all those crazy people that are attacking everyone, weren’t they on the flight with you?” Henry said.

  “Yes, but they’re not alive anymore,” Paul said. “They’re something else now.”

  “What?” Katie asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Henry said.

  “What do you mean they’re not alive anymore?” Linda was puzzled.

  Paul raised his voice. “Listen to me, all of you.” he had their attention. “I was on that plane and halfway to London, while we were over the ocean, people went crazy for no apparent reason and began attacking everyone.”

  “Why?” Linda asked in a scared tone.

  “I don’t know why, goddamnit!” Paul shouted and then calmed down. “I’m sorry, Linda. I don’t know why they went mad, but they killed many of the passengers. I barely escaped with my life.”

  “Paul, you said that those people aren’t alive anymore,” Katie said. “How is that possible?”

  “I honestly don’t know, but I saw one of them shot twice in the chest and it didn’t die.” Paul recalled the scene. “I saw another man that they killed rise back to life a few minutes later.”

  “Could it be some kind of virus?” Henry pondered.

  “I don’t know, Henry. It could, but I do know this,” Paul told them. “If one of them scratches or bites you, you’ll die and become one of them.”

  A thin scream rose to the living room from the street below—Paul rushed to a window and peered through a curtain—no one was on the street, but he thought he saw someone run into the building they were in. “We have to go,” Paul told them.

  “Where?” Linda asked.

  “Anywhere, we have to leave London,” Paul insisted.

  “Why do we have to leave?” Henry said. “Aren’t the police taking care of this?”

  “Listen to me—there were a couple hundred of those things on the plane when it crashed,” Paul said in a hard voice. “When I escaped, I saw about sixty of them and they were attacking all the police and anyone else they saw. Whoever they attack becomes one of them very quickly so who knows how many there are now. Do you understand?”

  More screams from the street below…

  “What was that?” Linda asked.

  “When I escaped I saw a police officer get attacked and he left in his car—I just saw his car abandoned a few blocks from here,” Paul said.

  “Did you see him?” Katie asked.

  “No, and his car was covered in blood, there’s no way he could have lived,” Paul told them.

  Panic and confusion set in on Linda, “What is happening? What is this?”

  “So he might have become one of those things?” Henry asked.

  “Yes, most definitely,” Paul said. “Look. Katie and I are leaving; we’re going to my family’s country house. You two should come with us,” he said to Henry and Linda.

  “If you think it’s for the best?” Henry said.

  “Yes, I do,” Paul told him. “We’re leaving now, pack some clothing, but most important, we’re taking all the food and water in the flat.”

  “Okay,” Katie said.

  They stood there in confusion for a moment.

  “Now guys, do it now. We have to leave,” Paul said.

  All of them scattered to pack, except for Paul, who looked out the window and saw undead on the street. Some were lingering around the Mini Cooper. “Bloody hell,” he said at the sight.

  Linda was by herself in the hallway going through a closet for some clothes when she heard a commotion outside their door. She turned and almost opened it, but decided to look through the peephole. She didn’t see anything at first, and then an old woman fell on the floor in her view. She could only see her from the chest up—“It’s Mrs. Harrington, she’s fallen down,” Linda said and went to unlock the door.

  “Linda, no!” Paul shouted.

  She opened the door and saw—

  The old woman was on her back and an undead corpse had its hands all inside her stomach, eating her like a ravenous dog.

  Linda screamed—

  The thing saw her and growled with a bloody mouth, flesh hanging from its teeth. It jumped up and attacked her. She slammed the door shut, but the creature got its arm inside the door. “Oh God! Help me!” she shouted.

  She pushed her bod
y against the door to keep the thing out, but its arm reached around and caught her by the neck—its infected fingers digging into her and ripping out a large chunk—her blood sprayed the door in a fan pattern.

  Henry got to her first and was shocked by what he saw. “Linda!”

  She was about to collapse until Henry grabbed her. He had to push on the door to keep the stench out. Linda’s blood poured all over him. “Paul!” he shouted.

  Paul was already there as he aimed the gun at the thing’s head. He fired and it fell back into the hallway. Henry quickly closed the door and locked it. What Paul didn’t know was that the gunshot alerted the others that were in the building.

  “Jesus, Linda!” Henry cried as he pressed his hand against her neck wound, blood dripping between his fingers. Katie got there and cried instantly at the sight of her friend. “Linda! Linda!” she yelled.

  “Katie, get some bandages from the bathroom!” Paul told her.

  She disappeared down the hall and came back a moment later with a handful of everything they had. She dropped to her knees next to Linda and unwrapped some gauze pads. “Let me see!” Katie told Henry.

  He removed his hand and her wound flowed freely.

  “Oh God!” Katie said.

  She applied the gauze pads and they instantly turned red. She placed more and that slowed the bleeding some. “Hold them in place,” she told Henry.

  He held the bandages on Linda’s neck as Katie got a roll of gauze and wrapped it around the wound.

  “Remove your hand,” Katie said.

  She continued to wrap with Henry’s hand clear and the gauze stopped the bleeding.

  “We need to get her to hospital as quickly as possible!” Katie said.

  “That’s not going to be easy,” Paul said.

  “We have to, Paul!” Katie shouted.

  “Okay, I know!” Paul answered.

  “She’ll die if we don’t get her treatment!” Henry said.

  “I know,” Paul answered.

  They picked Linda up off the floor and Paul was about to unlock the door when they heard more of the infected enter the hallway on their floor. They listened to what sounded like three or four of them trample around. They heard another screech and didn’t know that the old woman who was attacked had risen. They were as quiet as possible so they wouldn’t be heard, but they didn’t realize a pool of Linda’s blood had slowly moved under the door seam and outside into the hallway. One of the undead smelled the blood and dropped down to the door seam to lick it up. They watched in disgust as the putrid tongue swiped back and forth under the door and, once the blood was all gone, the thing wailed for more and began to scratch at the door.

  Others came and joined in. They became riled and began to pound on the frail door for entry. It wasn’t going to last long. “We need another way out!” Paul said.

  “But you have the gun,” Henry said. “Just shoot them!”

  “These things are incredibly fast and strong,” Paul said, “and I don’t know how many bullets are left in the gun.”

  “Can’t you open it or whatever it is they do to check it?” Henry said.

  Paul held the gun out to him. “Here then. If you know more about it than I do, take it.”

  “No, I’ve never handled a gun in my life.”

  “Okay then. We’re going down the fire escape,” Paul told them.

  “I don’t think Linda can make it, Paul,” Katie said.

  Part of the door cracked from the constant banging. “She has to,” Paul said.

  “I can walk,” Linda said in a weak voice.

  The door fractured more and infected blood seeped through the cracks from the undead ramming their bodies against it.

  Henry and Katie helped Linda as Paul led them to the living room, opened a window, and climbed out onto the fire escape landing. It was clear beneath them. “Come on,” Paul told them and they followed him out. As they began to descend, a window broke two floors below. They looked down and saw a man fighting off a corpse; they had fallen out of the window and blocked the fire escape. Another undead thing came out the window to attack the man.

  “We have to go up!” Paul told them.

  “Up?” Henry said. “And then where?”

  “I don’t know, but we have to hurry!” Paul said as he looked back in the window to see their door was about to break. “Hurry!” he shouted.

  Henry and Katie went up first as they dragged Linda along. Her steps were heavy and she was barely conscious. Paul was right behind them, but he closed the curtains and the window before he ascended. The building was only eight stories and they didn’t have much to go, but Linda slowed them down. “Come on, baby,” Henry said to her. “You can make it. Once we get you to hospital, you can relax and have ice cream, yes?”

  “That…sounds lovely,” Linda labored in short breaths.

  Paul looked up and locked eyes with Katie. She could tell by the look in his eyes what he was thinking and she remembered what he told them just a few minutes ago:

  “If one of them scratches or bites you, then you’ll die and become one of them.”

  “We have to hurry, Henry. We need to get her to hospital!” Katie said and they climbed faster.

  They got to the fifth floor, looked in the window, and saw a family being viciously attacked by three ghouls. There was nothing that could be done so they proceeded up. On the sixth floor they looked in the flat’s window and witnessed a couple trying to reinforce their front door—there were undead outside trying to bust in. The couple only had a thin dining table and chairs to use, which weren’t strong enough. With each impact from the dead, their table and chairs were knocked looser. It wouldn’t be long before they got in.

  “Keep going,” Paul told Henry and Katie. “Hey!” Paul called to the people inside.

  The scared couple came to the window. “Can you help us?”

  “We’re going to the roof. It’s the only way out!” Paul told them. They didn’t know what to do. “Come on!” Paul said and continued up.

  The couple made up their minds when their door cracked and a part broke off, undead arms reaching in and clawing at everything. They opened their window and climbed out.

  “Close the curtains and the window so they don’t know where you went,” Paul told them.

  The man did as Paul instructed, but one of the undead at their door saw where its food went as it tore the door open.

  They climbed as fast as they could, but helping Linda slowed everyone down. “Come on, move faster!” the man at the rear shouted.

  The group had just passed the seventh floor when they heard a window break below. The man and woman at the rear looked down and saw three of the dead stenches come out looking for them. They were horrified when the things looked up and saw them. “Oh my God!” the young girl shouted.

  “Hurry!” the man at the back shouted up. “They’re coming!”

  The frightened couple moved faster up the fire escape until they pushed on Paul’s back, but he couldn’t move any faster because of Linda. “Stop pushing, damn you!” Paul shouted as he tried to turn around to use the gun. He was too late—the first corpse reached the man and attacked him. His girl screamed but couldn’t do anything to help. The man fought the best he could, but the dead creature was too strong. He couldn’t hold it off and it bit into his chest. He shouted in pain as it tore out some of his flesh and t-shirt. Blood sprayed his eyes and blinded him, but he kept fighting. The two struggled back and forth; hitting a window, shattering it, then fell back against the fire escape railing. The corpse pushed hard and the man went over, but he took the dead thing with him.

  “Roger!” the woman screamed as she watched him fall.

  The bodies hit the fire escape twice on the way down and smashed into the asphalt in the middle of the street. The noise from the fire escape impacts brought out more of the dead; they heard the girl scream and rushed up to get them. “Jesus!” Paul shouted. “Move. Get to the top, move it!”

  They ma
de it to the eighth floor, which was as high as the fire escape would go; the roof was one more floor up. Henry and Katie moved Linda aside for Paul to squeeze through. Linda’s bandage unraveled, but there was no time to fix it. Paul looked in the window of the flat. It looked empty. He tried to open the window, but it was locked so he kicked it in, undid the lock, opened the window, and climbed in. He looked around quickly and saw no one was around. “It’s safe, get in,” Paul told them.

  Henry and Katie brought Linda through the window gently. By now she was delusional. “Are we at hospital yet?” she asked.

  “No, sweetie. Almost though,” Henry answered.

  “Really? But I can…smell ice cream.”

  The new girl entered last, still sobbing from losing her boyfriend.

  “Close the window and the curtains,” Paul told the girl as he moved toward the front door. “We have to get to the back stairwell to get down.”

  Paul opened the front door slowly—just an inch—and spied the hallway for any movement, but no one was around. “It’s clear, let’s go.”

  They followed Paul down the hallway to the stairwell. He opened the door and listened for anyone or anything. It was clear so they entered.

  The group had only descended one floor when the silence was broken by the sudden noise of a door busting open beneath them. Paul looked over the railing and saw some of the undead; they couldn’t get down that way. One of the stenches saw Paul—it bellowed at the sight of prey and they ran up after them.

  “Up!” Paul shouted. “We have to go back up! Go!”

  They hurried upwards, Henry and Katie practically carrying Linda who was limp and almost unconscious. The undead ran fast and would catch them in moments. The group reached the last flight of stairs that led to the roof. Paul let Henry and Katie go up first with Linda. The other girl trailed behind on the last flight. “Come on!” Paul yelled to her.

  She made it to the top of the stairs, but a fast mover grabbed her by the ankle and knocked her down. Before Paul could help her, they were all over her. She screamed in horror and reached out to Paul, but it was too late. He shot her in the head, and then ran as corpses came after him. He sprinted up the stairs and caught up with Henry and Katie struggling to open the roof door. “Open it!” he screamed, but they couldn’t. So he pushed by them and opened the door with a crash of his body.