Domain of the Dead

by Iain McKinnon

  Bates let out a sigh of relief and turned to his companions.

  “It’s just a door,” he said in a light tone.

  The voice in the darkness registered in a zombie’s ears. It shambled out from behind the swinging door and into the corridor.

  Still smiling, Bates turned to resume his advance. As he brought his gun up to renew his stance, Professor Cutler lurched out from behind the swinging door and bit into Bates’ forearm.

  Bates screamed and pulled back, tearing his flesh from the zombie’s mouth. The zombie fell into the corridor, snatching at Bates as it did.

  “Fuck!” Bates shrieked and he fired wild shots at the cadaver.

  In the dark of the corridor the muzzle flashes sent out pulses of light like a strobe in a night club, the snapshot glimpses burning bright green amorphous after images into their eyes.

  The deafening bark of the gunshots added to the disorientation. The noise bounded off the walls of the corridor and smacked into Sarah’s ears. Each violent stab of sound made Sarah wince, squeezing her eyes shut as if they could form a barrier against the sound. She tensed against the cacophony pounding her eardrums, but shrieks of migraine-like pain still shot through her head.

  The gun fire stopped, leaving an aftermath of rising tinnitus. Opening her eyes and peering out through her blurred vision, Sarah could make out more figures shambling towards her and her companions.

  “Quick in here!” she shouted over the ringing in her ears.

  Grabbing Bates by the shoulders, she pulled with all her strength, hauling him into the room the zombie had emerged from. Bates didn’t resist, but paralysed with shock he didn’t aid Sarah either.

  As she frog-marched Bates into the room, Sarah felt Nathan jostle into her as he misjudged his footing in the dark.

  “Get the door!” she shouted.

  Nathan pushed into the room, and pivoting, he took the door handle, heaving the door closed with one big slam. One hand still on the handle holding the door shut, he ran his free hand along the jamb. He fumbled around the frame and the handle, searching for a key or a latch or any other means to lock the door.

  After a frantic doublecheck he called out to Sarah, “There’s no key!”

  “Find something to the wedge the handle with!”

  “Shit, I’ve been bit.” Bates’ voice was weak and distant. “I been fuckin’ bit.”

  “I can’t see a thing in here!” Nathan screeched as he bashed around in the darkness.

  Sarah looked around, not knowing what she was searching for. Then her eyes came to a tiny green light. Above it was a dusky yellow light. She felt her way through the blackness up to the source of the green glow. Taking a step forward, she bumped into something at her waist. The object gave way from the collision with the clear squeak of wheels on tile. A trolley or something, Sarah thought as she put her hands out to feel her way around. Her hands came across cold metal struts. Beyond that, hard plastic, like the type school chairs always seemed to be made of. Her fingers met with the edge of a rough linen sheet with a thin plastic tube running across it. There was a weak judder as if something on the gurney had shifted its weight.

  Sarah held her breath.

  Moving her hand further along to where she hoped to find an end to the obstruction, she brushed her fingers against a strap of thick leather. She placed her hand on something cold like a lump of meat but as she did it twitched.

  Throwing her hands in the air, Sarah screamed.

  “What is it?” Nathan asked.

  The trolley rattled and shook.

  “I think it’s the specimen Doctor Robertson mentioned,” Sarah said, her voice full of revulsion.

  “Where?!”

  “I think it’s tied down…” Sarah worked up the courage to check. “Yes, it’s strapped down on a trolley or something. I’m going to see if I can get some light.”

  Careful to keep out of the juddering zombie’s reach, Sarah edged round the gurney to where she could see the green and yellow glow.

  The yellow light was a LED on the face of a computer. She groped around near the green light and found a round button. As she pressed it in, there was a hard thunk and a jagged rip of light dashed across the screen. The glassy cathode ray tube gasped out a metallic plink and the screen erupted into life. The screen lit up the room with its television-like luminescence.

  “There must be a UPS in here,” Nathan said as he hunted for something to use as a barricade.

  There was a loud thump against the door, followed by another.

  Both Sarah and Nathan froze, waiting—hoping—for a human voice to call out.

  Another thump and then a moan.

  “Why do they moan like that?!” Nathan cursed, not expecting an answer.

  “Just hurry up blocking that door, Nathan!” Sarah yelled, the growing pounding at the door giving urgency to her demand.

  She whipped round and started scanning the room for something—anything—useful.

  Then, by the light of the computer, she saw what she needed. She reached up to a shelf and pulled down a large silver flask. She placed the container on the desk next to a Bunsen burner.

  “Where are the matches?” she muttered to herself as she opened the desk drawer to rummage inside.

  There came a loud crashing noise from the door. The room was filled by the sound of breaking glass and crumpling metal.

  Sarah screamed with fright and jumped back.

  Standing to the side of the door, Sarah could make out Nathan’s form. Across the doorway there now lay a large refrigerator, its doors fallen open, its shelves and contents spewed across the deck.

  “Nathan!” Sarah screamed.

  “What?! You wanted the fucking door blocked!”

  Sarah couldn’t reply. She had wanted to chastise him for giving her a shock but he’d been right. She’d barked at him to get it blocked she could hardly complain when he had done what he was told.

  Returning to the flask, Sarah unscrewed the lid slightly, just enough to make it easy to open but not enough for the contents to spill out.

  “I’ve been bit! I’ve fuckin’ got bit,” Bates repeated, looking at the blood trickling from the wound. He cocked his weapon, checking there was a round in the chamber, and pushed the barrel of the gun into the soft flesh underneath his jaw.

  “Bates!” Sarah snapped. “Give me the gun.”

  He looked at her with moist eyes. In a far off voice he said, “I’ve been bit.”

  “Give me your gun,” Sarah said in a harsher tone. When Bates didn’t comply, she barked, “That’s an order, soldier!”

  Reluctantly Bates lowered his weapon. “I’ve been bit…”

  “I’m sorry, Bates,” Sarah said.

  She grabbed his hand and whipped off the lid to the flask.

  “What for?” Bates asked.

  “This,” Sarah said as she plunged his arm into the container.

  Plumes of mist rolled over the top of the flask and Bates screamed. He shuddered and tried to pull his arm free, but Sarah held it down with all her force.

  The noise Bates made hardly sounded human. It was more high pitched and primordial like a jungle creature caught in a trap.

  “What the fuck?!” Nathan cried.

  “Help me hold him!” Sarah shouted back, struggling to keep the arm submerged.

  Nathan rushed up and clamped his arms around Bates.

  The liquid nitrogen in the flask bubbled like boiling water. Plumes of icy mist bellowed over the rim of the flask and around Bates’ arm.

  Between the piercing screams and trying to subdue his thrashing, Sarah watched as the skin turned white. A thick frost was climbing up the limb. It froze every hair it touched, leaving a crystalline sheen of ice over the skin and crept onwards accompanied by swirls of fog.

  “Okay!” Sarah shouted. “That’s enough!”

  She let go of the arm and pulled the flask out of the way.

  Now the pounding at the door had become more frenzied, spurred on by th
e wailing on the other side.

  His eyes wide open from the shock, Bates was transfixed by his ice-covered limb. His fist, his wrist, and a good part of his forearm including the bite were frozen solid.

  Sarah picked the gun up by the barrel, and using it like a hammer, she smashed it down onto the frozen arm.

  The arm shattered, sending chunks of pink ice skittering across the table. Some of the lumps collided, splintering still further with the impact.

  Nathan let go and stepped back. He let out a dry cough and felt his whole gut cramp up. The force bent him double and he retched up what little he had left in his stomach.

  Bates’ eyelids flickered as his eyes rolled back. His muscles went limp and he crashed to the floor.

  “We need to cauterise the wound,” Sarah said, searching for a box of matches with which to light the Bunsen burner. Frantically she started pulling out drawers until finally she found a lighter wand.

  “Try to find a first aid kit,” Sarah said to Nathan as she lit the burner.

  An eerie yellow light flickered across the lab. Light ebbed and flowed with the flickering of the flame, sending shadows dancing across the opposite wall.

  Sarah stretched the burner’s rubber hose as far as it would go.

  “Help me get Bates over here.”

  Unceremoniously Nathan grabbed the unconscious soldier under his armpits and hoisted him up.

  Sarah turned the baffle at the base of the Bunsen burner, changing the flame from a licking yellow to a roaring blue head. Bates moaned as Sarah waved the flame over the stump. The flesh and blood crackled as it scorched and Sarah feared Bates would wake up and start screaming again. A foul odour—a mixture of burnt hair and roast pork—wafted up from the wound.

  “First aid kit?” Sarah asked.

  “Goddammit, one thing at a time!” Nathan snapped. He laid Bates back on the deck and returned to his search.

  “Try near the door,” Sarah offered.

  Nathan’s footsteps crunched over to the door, pulverising still further the discarded contents of the fridge.

  The light in the room changed as behind him Sarah flipped the Bunsen burner back to its yellow flame. With the extra light, Nathan’s eyes caught the reflection of the saffron flame on the shoulder of a fire extinguisher secured to the wall. Above it there hung a green plastic box with a white cross in its centre. The first aid box slipped out of its bracket easily and Nathan turned back to Sarah.

  As he did the light from the flame caught his arm. The scratch he’d sustained in the cell looked inflamed. Even in the warm hue of the burner, his skin bordering the welts looked pale, not red as he would have expected. A dry cough found the back of his throat and the seasickness still clawed at his stomach.

  “Here,” he said as he passed Sarah the first aid kit.

  He took off his wristband and swapped it over. The tattered leather strap covered most of the inflammation and would serve to camouflage the wound from Sarah.

  Sarah turned to the Bunsen burner, and using its bright yellow light, fished out a wound dressing from the green box.

  “That door isn’t going to keep them out,” Nathan said as the banging behind him solidified into a constant droning.

  Even through the residual whining in her ears from the earlier gun play, the hammering at the door was still louder than Sarah’s tinnitus.

  Trying to ignore the noise, Sarah applied the dressings, but she couldn’t stop herself from glancing up every few moments. It was impossible to tell if the door was actually shaking or whether the flickering shadows just gave that impression. Either way, there were zombies on the other side of that door and it would only be a matter of time before they forced their way in.

  “We still have to get to the armoury and then get Jennifer,” Sarah said, looking back at Nathan.

  “Yeah, and radio that sub and ask them nicely not to nuke us!” Nathan added. “Oh, and not get eaten in the process.”

  Sarah picked up the gun she had taken from Bates and examined it. It was heavy. More so than she had expected. Looking at it closely, she realized that it was also smaller than she would have thought a gun should be.

  She turned her attention to the mechanisms of the gun proper, desperately needing to know how many shots were left.

  There were three latches on the gun, and if there were annotations on the casing Sarah couldn’t tell in the dim light. The top catch was directly in front of the hammer and she guessed it must be the safety catch. She drew her fingers down the gun onto the middle latch. It was long and slender and seated directly above the trigger. She tried to remember if she’d seen any of the soldiers load their pistols. She knew that in the past day she must have seen dozens of guns being loaded, but she couldn’t conjure up any of them. She ran her fingers along the clasp for a moment, and not knowing why decided it wasn’t the catch for the magazine. Where the trigger guard met with the handle of the gun there was a small button. She nudged it forward and the clip glided out.

  Caught off guard by the speed of the clip, Sarah fumbled to stop it hitting the floor. As she did she skiffed a broken finger across the butt of the gun.

  “Shit!” she cursed through pursed lips.

  The magazine tumbled to the deck and clattered to a stop.

  “Do you know what you’re doing there?” Nathan asked.

  “Sure,” Sarah lied, trying to sound confident. “Just banged my finger, that’s all.” She reached down and grabbed the clip even before she’d finished speaking to Nathan.

  The magazine was slender and long. From the movies she’d been dragged to by tiresome boyfriends, she had the impression that all ammo clips were square chunky things. A copper bodied bullet with a dull gunmetal grey head sat at the top of the magazine. The ammunition was tiny, like it should belong in a toy, not a real firearm. Sarah dispelled that thought; having already witnessed the power of these unimposing shells, she knew how deadly they were. She had hoped that when she removed the clip it would be obvious to her how many shots were left, but it wasn’t. There were a series of small holes up the face of the magazine but she couldn’t angle enough light to see if there were any bullets inside. She surmised that there would be some kind of spring arrangement that pushed the bullets up into the breach of the gun and that theoretically she would be able to unload and reload the clip. But she had paid enough attention during those bad dates to know that guns jammed and she didn’t know enough about guns to trust herself to reload the clip correctly.

  “Are you sure you know how to use that thing?” Nathan asked again.

  “Yeah, I had every season of Twenty-Four on DVD.” Sarah slapped the clip back up into position with a satisfying click and tried to look nonchalant holding the gun.

  Nathan sat himself down next to the Bunsen burner. “So we’re just going to walk out there?”

  “We have to,” Sarah said.

  They both found their gaze had settled on the Bunsen burner’s flame. The primordial comfort of the fire wasn’t enough to dispel their fear. The door still shook as the groaning zombies tried to force their way in.

  Sarah took a deep breath, signifying the end of the respite.

  She stood up and waved the gun at the door. “You open the door and stand back. I’ll shoot them as they come in.”

  “How may shots you got left?” Nathan asked.

  Sarah looked at the gun. “Enough... I hope.”

  Nathan presented the palms of his hands to the flame from the Bunsen burner to warm them up.

  “You cold?” Sarah asked.

  “Freezing. What about you?”

  “I’m fine.” Sarah paused for a second. “But then I haven’t just heaved my guts up. Are you up to this?”

  Nathan shrugged. “I’m going to have to be.”

  “Here, take my shirt,” Sarah offered.

  “Are you sure?” Nathan half-heartedly protested. “I mean, won’t you get cold?”

  Sarah unbuttoned the garment, revealing a tight white vest underneath. �
��I’ll be fine. It’s too big for me anyway,” she said, handing it over.

  “Thanks,” Nathan said as he put it on, carefully rolling the sleeves down to further hide his injury.

  “Okay, let’s do this. You get the door and I’ll shoot them,” Sarah said as she took up position a few feet from the door.

  “Will you be okay to shoot that?” Nathan asked, looking at Sarah’s bandaged fingers.

  “I’ll just fire left handed. How much more difficult can it be?”

  “Fuck.” Nathan shook his head as he crunched his way over to the broken fridge. He bent down squat and with his hands hooked around the top of the fridge he hauled it out of the doorway.

  The noise of the fridge scraping along the deck excited the zombies even further and they increased the ferocity of their pounding.

  Nathan stepped to the side of the door and nodded to Sarah.

  “Go!” Sarah ordered and Nathan tipped the door handle.

  The door flew open, spilling a torrent of cadavers into the room. The first few, unbalanced by the push behind them and sudden opening of the door, toppled to the deck. Before they could make to get up the creatures behind had surged forward, trampling their compatriots.

  Sarah aimed the gun at the lead zombie and pulled the trigger. The gun bucked wildly in her hands, throwing her aim up and off. The explosion from the shot made her blink, shutting her eyes instinctively and the thunderous bark of the gun meant that she recoiled as much as the weapon. When she opened her eyes the uninjured zombie was still advancing on her. She fired again, blinking her eyes shut at the sound and the flash of the shot. When she looked at the zombie she’d been aiming at, it was struggling to its feet, a smouldering hole in its shoulder.

  She aimed and fired again. This time the bullet found its mark and the zombie crumpled to the ground. The next zombie in line stumbled forward, showing no regard for the corpse it trampled over. Sarah aimed the gun again, this time with a stiffer grip, and fired.

  The shot missed, but this time she hadn’t flinched. Levelling the gun at the zombie’s head she fired again.

  A huge chunk of scalp flew out from the back of the zombie’s skull and it collapsed to the floor.