Death Plague [Four Zombie Novels]

by Ian Woodhead

  “I smell clean.”

  His sister took his hand. “How do you feel?”

  That question took him by surprise. Of all the thoughts cramming into his head, he had not even given the state of his health any consideration. Apart from being unable to get warm, Kenny didn’t feel as bad as he’d expected. He looked into her eyes. “I’ve felt a lot worse. What’s going on, where are we?”

  Diane stood up and helped him to his feet. “We need to get off this level first. Can you climb?” She guided Kenny over to the rough stone rock face. “We have to get up here.”

  He grimaced. “I hope you’re joking. I can hardly stand up, never mind climb up there.” His protests abruptly stopped when he heard the sound of a single mournful groan. Kenny snapped his head around. “Oh shit,” he whispered. “Please don’t tell me that was what I thought it was.”

  Diane wedged the tip of her boot into a hole above her knee. She jumped up and managed to grab a small rocky outcropping. “Are you willing to stay to find out, Kenny?” She scrambled further up the rock and threw herself onto a ledge a couple of meters above his head. Diane leaned out and dropped her arm down. “Grab my hand.” She looked past the top of his head. “Hurry up, there’s three of them now.”

  Kenny didn’t dare turn his head. He jumped up and tried to reach her hand, missing her digits by a couple of inches. The rising sound of multiple groans gave him the incentive to shake away the numbing slumber affecting his whole body. Kenny found the hole where his sister had pushed her foot in and wedged his own foot in there. He then jumped up, his fingers desperately trying to find any piece of rock to grab on to. He looked up and saw his sister leaning out even further, trying to grab him. He knew right now if he did grab her hand, his sister would probably end up back on the ground behind him. Kenny ignored her outstretched arm, pushed away the shaking panic that now infected his bones at the sound of those approaching zombies, and focused on trying to climb the rock.

  Their loud groaning bore down on his hearing, drowning out even the terrified shouts coming from above him. Kenny grunted and lunged up, his probing digits grasping a rough knob of stone. He screamed out in utter fury and pulled his aching body up the rock face; his sister hooked her hand around his other wrist and pulled. Her grip suddenly went slack.

  “Kick back!” she shouted.

  He violently snapped his foot backwards, feeling it connect with something that broke under the impact. Kenny cried out in panic and scrambled up the last few feet of the rock and rolled onto the ledge, squashing Diane into the corner.

  He lifted his head and peered over the edge, counting nine dead things pressed against the wall below them. They all had their arms raised, grasping hopefully at the air. He carefully stood up, moved a little closer to those outstretched arms, and tilted his head back.

  “This isn’t natural.”

  He felt his sister use his leg to stand up. Diane ran her hand over the surface, just above her head. She turned and stared at him. “Kenny, of course it isn’t real.” She wrapped her other hand around his wrist and pulled his arm up towards her other hand. “Feel it.”

  The tips of Kenny’s fingers brushed over something cold and smooth, with a sharp edge. “That feels like metal.”

  She nodded. “That’s because it is. Come on, Kenny, we still need to keep climbing, there’s no other way out of here.” Diane tipped her head back then stretched her arms and dug her fingers into a couple of crevices above her head. “It’ll be easier to continue now, Kenny.” She pulled her body up. “Trust me, we’ve got past the hardest bit. There’s ledges all the way to the top.”

  His sister scaled the vertical surface like a human fly; it took her just moments to reach another ledge a couple of meters above his head. Kenny looked behind him, noticing that there were a few more dead things below them now. He shuddered; talk about the best incentive ever to not to lose his balance. His fingers found the holes that his sister had used and Kenny began to heft his body, taking his time. It had been ages since he’d subjected his poor muscles to any sort of rigorous exercise.

  Diane was right though, compared to the first stage, this wasn’t that hard. He felt like he was crawling along rough ground, only vertically. His sister helped him onto to the next ledge. He found to his relief that the rocks above their heads had started to level out.

  Kenny dropped to the floor and leaned back. “Okay, that’s it. I’m not going any further until you tell me just what the hell is going on here. More to the point, how did you know about the climb?”

  She sat down beside him. “I’m still waiting, you know.”

  He looked up. “Waiting for what?”

  “You still haven’t told me how you really feel.”

  Kenny blinked. Now that she’d asked the question again, he realized for the first time in ages that he felt quite good. “Yeah, okay, you’ve got me. Apart from being tired and my arms aching because of that climb, I can honestly say that I feel almost human.”

  She nodded. “The best you’re felt for a while? I thought so. You see, Rossini wants to get the most out of his contestants. I watched him stick three needles into your arm, Kenny.”

  “Wait, go back a bit. What do you mean by contestants?” No matter how hard he tried, Kenny couldn’t remember anything about the needle. He rolled up his sleeves, noting that he couldn’t remember them cleaning him up and pouring his body into this one-piece outfit either. There were no obvious needle marks.

  “I think the first needle would have been more of your drug, Kenny. I’m only guessing though, it’s just that the color was the same as the one I gave you last night. It’s the second injection that scared the crap out of me, Kenny. I don’t know what it was but seconds after they pulled the needle out, you just went ballistic. Judging from how the captors reacted, I don’t think they expected you to go postal, either.”

  “A stimulant, maybe?”

  Diane shrugged. “I don’t have a clue. All I know is that you took two of them down and busted Rossini’s nose before the man could push the last needle into your arm. You closed your eyes and dropped to the floor after that.”

  “I should have broken the bastard’s fat neck. So, come on, what do you mean by contestants? Where the hell are we?” Kenny took his eyes off the gathered dead things and gazed up towards the sky – not that they were outside, despite the look of the surroundings. That illusion fell apart as soon as he saw the metal beams high above them. “Oh shit, this is the arena, isn’t it?”

  Diane followed his gaze up towards the vast roof and nodded. “Yeah, we’re in one of the game zones, honey. It’s such a weird feeling to actually be in here, instead of watching on the box.”

  “You mean,” he licked his lips, “that we’re on fucking television?”

  Diane wiped her forehead. “I’m not convinced about that.” She pinched the material on her arm and pulled it up. “I haven’t seen any cameras, not yet, anyway.” Diane frowned. “To be honest, I’m a bit confused over all of this.”

  Kenny snorted. “You and me both.”

  “No,” she replied. “You don’t understand what I mean. Thanks to my flatmate, I’ve sat through almost every one of these banal TV shows. It’s her apartment, you see, and she can’t get enough of the bilge they transmit. Now, each show has its own distinct look and a unique costume. Hell, on Celebrity Slaughter, the sick freaks even dress the zombies in bright orange jumpsuits.”

  “Okay, I’m following you now. You’ve never seen anything like the things that we’re wearing?”

  “That’s about the size of it,” Diane replied. She climbed up onto a stone block beside her feet and gazed over the broken landscape. “We’d better keep moving. If they are watching us, they won’t take kindly to us stopping for any great length of time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She stared at Kenny. “They’ll drop nasty surprises on our heads if we don’t get a move on. Come on, follow me. I think I know where we can go.”

  H
e tried to keep up with Diane as she scrambled over the pretend rocks. It looked as though his sister was making her way towards what resembled an old stone gothic church. Kenny belonged to the minority of the city’s population that wasn’t hooked on any of these stupid shows. He put that down to the tediousness of trying to stay living, and ensuring that he had enough drugs to keep him going until the next fix.

  He wasn’t blind to any of the shows though, it was impossible to miss them. Even with him sleeping outside most of the time, Kenny couldn’t fail to notice the huge streetscreens that dominated every public square in the capital. The last time he’d actually watched a TV show was before The Turning. Back then though, the prizes were usually money, a vacation, or maybe a new car. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe that the new shows would offer similar prizes.

  “Diane, wait up!” He stopped and folded over, feeling a stitch developing. When he sensed her shadow over him, he looked up and wiped his forehead. “You said we were contestants? Does that mean we could win something?”

  She crouched down and looked over his shoulder. “I used that term a little wrong, I think, Kenny. Look, I still have no idea what show we’re in.”

  “Does that make a difference?”

  “Are you serious? Of course it does. If we were in The Last One Standing, then they’d be another twenty with us, all trying to kill each other. Or what about Infection Hunt? Three ‘lucky’ individuals are given very big guns and are told to bring down two prisoners that are about to turn. The winner is the first one to take out the prisoners with headshots.”

  Kenny’s stomach rolled. “Right, so no matter what game this is, the chances are that we’re bait?”

  She pulled him onto his feet. “We need to get to that building as soon as we can, Kenny.” Diane set off again. “And this time, don’t stop,” she cried, looking over her shoulder.

  He tried to keep up with his sister as she raced over the broken rocks. Kenny kept his eyes and ears open for signs that they were no longer alone. His gut feelings told him that running from those dead things when he woke up would probably have been the easiest part of this fucked up game. Kenny pledged, there and then, that if he did survive this lunacy, Rossini was going to end up properly dead.

  Diane had already reached the building. He slowed down and stared at it, trying to work out where he’d seen it before. Kenny sighed before running through the open door. It had taken him a few moments but the memory did seep into his brain. This was a replica of the palace that used to sit in the center of the city. The original building had long since gone. The authorities had filled the interior with chained-up convicts, cut them all and left a trail of blood up to the doors. The waking corpses in the city had converged on the palace like flies around shit. Once they’d bolted the doors, the officers had set the building on fire.

  “What the hell is this doing here?”

  Diane ignored him and pushed past Kenny to shut and bolt the door. He watched her run over to a large painting of some old monarch and try to pull it off the wall.

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?”

  “Shut up and give me a hand.”

  He hurried over and dug his fingers under the frame. “Wait, I can feel a draft.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it’s a secret exit.”

  Did he just hear that correctly? Kenny kept his mouth shut and helped his sister lift the painting off the wall. Sure enough, he saw a large hole cutting through the plaster and stone. He pushed his head inside and ran his fingers over the bricks that lined the hole. They felt like real bricks. He expected them to be made from polystyrene. Kenny looked back at Diane. “Okay, this has totally fucking melted the inside of my brain.”

  “Look, this arena is just one of a few that they use in their programs. It just happens that I remember a rerun show from a couple of days ago where three young men used this tunnel to travel from one arena to the one next door. Don’t look at me like that, Kenny. I’m serious. We could use this to get out of here.”

  He sat down. “I’m sorry, Diane, this is just too much for me. I mean, if the cameras are watching us, how do you expect us to get out of here? Come to think of it, how is this make-believe bullshit tunnel going to help us, considering it just leads into another film set?”

  She crouched in front of him. “We are still alive, Kenny, and we’ve not seen anyone else, apart from a few zombies since we got here.” She lifted him back onto his feet. “I know you’re not familiar with the new shows but, apart from the extreme violence, the format hasn’t changed. The audience craves thrill, spills, and edge of your seat excitement. They ain’t getting that from us, are they?”

  “You think we’re not being filmed?”

  “Would you tune in to watch us? Apart from the zombie chase at the beginning, not much else has happened. I’d have turned over by now and watched something else. Don’t get me wrong. I’m pretty sure that Rossini hasn’t gone to all this trouble to forget about us.”

  “You think that maybe he’s gone out for ice cream before murdering us, or perhaps decided to have a bit of a nap?” Kenny smiled at his sister, glad to see a hint of a grin appearing on her face. It did feel a bit odd that, despite their predicament, he did feel pretty much okay. Before he did bash that Rossini’s head in, he’d have to find out what was in all those syringes.

  “There’s no need to lay on the sarcasm. You know what I mean.” Diane reached up and grabbed the edge of the hole. “Come on, give me a boost up.”

  Kenny locked his fingers, bent over, and tried not to grimace as she pushed her muddy boot into his hands. He stayed motionless as she pushed her body up and crawled into the hole.

  “Okay, it’s your turn now,” she said, dropping both her arms down. Kenny wiped his muddy hands on the wall, wrapped his fingers around her wrists and scrambled up. “I don’t understand, Diane,” he said, gazing along the long, brick-faced tunnel. “What difference will it make if we go through here? None of this is real. We’re still two rats in one big fucking maze.”

  Her smile widened. “I never thought that anything my annoying flatmate spouted on about regarding her obsession with these TV shows would ever be of any use.” She pointed to the ceiling. “Can you see those bare wires dangling down?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s where the cameras used to be, Kenny. They sold the studio next to this one to another company.”

  Kenny had no wish to pop her happiness bubble but even if the next studio was owned by somebody else, they would still be trapped. He followed her along the tunnel, wondering if he ought to remind Diane that Rossini didn’t have to lock them in a studio to hunt them down. The bastard had obviously bugged them, considering he found them easily enough in that medi-center.

  His sister stopped when she reached a metal plate covering their only way out. “Shit,” she said. Then again, what else did she expect? They were hardly likely to keep it open.

  “It’s looks like we’re going back then, Diane.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, at least you tried.”

  Diane brushed his hand away. “Don’t be in such a bloody rush to give up, Kenny.” She dropped to her knees and ran her fingers along the edge of the plate. “I mean it, you really do throw in the towel at every opportunity.”

  He turned away from the woman and bit his lip before he said anything that he might regret. God, did she even have a clue what his life was fucking like? How could she, when she and her friends were safe in their ivory towers, well fed and comfortable? Kenny loved his sister but there were times when her naïve attitude really got on his nerves.

  His teeth almost bit through his lips at the sudden deafening crash of metal hitting stone. He spun around and saw Diane staring at him with a huge smirk plastered across her face.

  “Oh ye of little faith,” she said.

  He hurried up to her and leaned over, looking into the room beyond then back at Diane. Of all the things he’d expected to see, a dusty store room, full of
old boxes, was not one of the options. Judging from his sister’s expression, it wasn’t what she’d expected to find either.

  “How old was this rerun, Diane? I mean, it doesn’t look as though anyone has been in there for decades.” He inched his way past her and kneeled down, by the edge. The stale air smelled of old paper and something very familiar. Kenny could detect the faint stench of bad meat. Kenny climbed through the hole, turned and dropped into the room, then helped Diane do the same. It looked like this discovery had really shaken his sister. She’d probably expected to find another studio set.

  This was real; there were no props here. Kenny ran his index finger along one of the metal shelves, watching the dust motes caused by his disturbance rise into the air. “Come on, let’s see where that goes,” he whispered, pointing to a door at the end of the room.

  Diane turned the other way and walked towards a bank of filing cabinets at the other side of the store room.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed. Kenny looked up at the hole, expecting to see company at any minute. “Come on, we need to move.”

  “Wait,” she replied, reaching the cabinets and opening the top drawer. “You have no idea where we are, do you?” His sister didn’t turn around. She shut the top drawer, crouched down, and opened the drawer below. “Oh fuck me,” she whispered.

  He ran over to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “This place shouldn’t be here! We shouldn’t be here. I don’t understand any of this!”

  He snatched the buff file out of her shaking hands and stared at the faded lettering on the front. Was this a joke? Kenny opened the folder and looked in confusion at the first report of the dead overrunning Government House in the center of the capital. He looked up at Diane. “This didn’t happen. I’m pretty sure I would have remembered it.” Kenny looked at the cover one more time, just to see if he had mistaken the city’s name.

  “Kenny, look at the date.”

  This had to be a joke; according to the file, the city was overrun over two decades ago. He looked across the room. They must have stumbled onto a movie set, it was the only logical answer. No matter how implausible it sounded, what else could it be? “They must be making a film, Diane, or perhaps a new type of TV show.” He shrugged. “Come on. It can’t be real.”