by Russ Watts
“Roza?” Tony reached over to a knife block and pulled out a breadknife. He looked around the room for her attacker but the kitchen appeared to be empty. “What happened? Who did that to you?”
“Tony, let’s go, now. I don’t think there’s anyone else in here with us,” said Bashar. A shiver ran up his spine. “She did that to herself.”
A smile spread across Roza’s face as she looked at them. Slowly she lifted the knife up and took a step forward. “You’re all going to die today.”
CHAPTER 4
Tony stared at the silver handle that jostled up and down as Bashar slammed the kitchen door shut behind them. He kept hold of the handle ensuring the door stayed closed, despite the attempts to pull it open from Roza on the other side.
“Tony, drag a table over here. We need to wedge this shut.”
Tony quickly grabbed one of the coffee tables and pushed it up against the door to the kitchen. He rammed it under the door handle and Bashar was able to let go. The two men stood back and looked at the handle moving up and down, and the door rattling in its frame.
“That should hold her for a while,” said Tony, his voice betraying his confidence in the table.
“Where’s Roza?” asked Sam. “Is she still back there?”
The young girl approached them, soggy napkins clutched in one hand and her phone in the other. Bashar was pleased to see she had stopped crying.
“She’s not really herself right now,” said Tony. He glanced nervously at Bashar. “We thought it best if we let her stay back there and work out some… personal issues.”
Sam looked inquisitively at Bashar. “You’re freaking me out. What’s wrong with her? Where’s Wilf? Is he okay?”
Bashar looked around the coffee shop. Not much had changed since their unsuccessful incursion into the kitchen. Bob was sitting motionless in the chair where they’d left him, Lulu was sulking in the corner still trying to text her boyfriend, and the fog pressing up against the windows was still there, potent and threatening.
“Sam, we need to focus on the people in this room, do you understand me?” Bashar reached to Tony and took the breadknife from his hand. “Can you get your tools, Tony? That big wrench might come in handy again.” Bashar felt better with something in his hands, and turned back to Sam as Tony went to fetch his tool bag. “Roza and Wilf won’t be joining us, okay? Our efforts need to be on securing this place and making sure you get home safely to your mother.”
Sam bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, okay,” she said timidly.
“I don’t suppose you’ve been able to get through to anyone?”
Sam gave the phone in her hand a look as if it were a dirty nappy. “No, sodding thing’s useless. Can’t get through to the police or anyone. I wondered if the fog was blocking it and we should try outside.”
“No,” replied Bashar, “that would be a bad idea.”
“Just a couple of feet? It might give us a better signal and—”
“No,” repeated Bashar firmly. “We’re not going out there until we’re ready.”
Sam looked past Bashar at the door handle that still jumped up and down. “Is Roza…?”
“You need to forget about her, Sam. We can’t do anything to help her, so it’s best she stays on her own.”
“On her own? What about Wilf? What happened to him?”
Bashar could see that Sam was about to break down again. The situation was overwhelming her. He didn’t think he could stand to see her pretty face so sad a second longer, and Bashar pushed a chair over to her. He sat down and watched Sam tuck her dress under her legs before she joined him.
“Sam, you need to be strong, okay? You need to think about your parents. Getting home to them is all you need to concentrate on. Forget Roza and this job, and think about this. We’re in one of the largest cities in the world. I expect the police are out on the streets now helping anyone and everyone they can, but with this fog so thick it’ll probably take them awhile to get to us. That means we have to look out for ourselves and figure out what we do next. I think the safest place is right here.”
“It’s not just the fog though, is it?” Sam sniffed and dabbed her watery eyes with the soggy napkins. “I think I could handle it if it was just that, but I’m not so stupid as to know there isn’t something else going on. There’s something out there hiding in the fog, something hurting people. And what about the dead woman?”
Bashar found his eyes drawn to the woman in the white dress. Her body was probably already starting to rot. Tony was passing by her, returning with his tool bag. Bashar knew what Sam was getting at, but had no answers.
“She was scared, Sam, scared and hurt. She didn’t know what she was doing.” It was all Bashar could think of to say. The truth was too horrifying to admit.
“She wasn’t just hurt, Bashar, she was dead. And what about that blue-haired girl? She bit Bob. She wouldn’t stop until you… you know. There’s something going on that isn’t normal. It’s like, supernatural or something. I don’t know. Did you ever watch the X-Files? My Dad used to be obsessed with it and he would make me watch it with him. He said a lot of people used to laugh at the government conspiracy stories in it but that it was all true. I knew it was all made up, but I remember this one episode where a dead man came back to life. I can’t remember what happened exactly, but it’s like what’s happening now. That woman in the dress, the blue-haired girl. It’s like they—”
“I can’t accept that, Sam.” Bashar didn’t want her to say it. He didn’t want the words said aloud. It was as if they would make his worst fears become real. Dead people didn’t get up and walk around. Death was the end. That was the only thing he was certain of. “I think this fog is like Tony said, it’s polluted and making people act crazy. Who knows, maybe there was some sort of explosion at a chemical plant and it’s in the air.”
Sam looked unimpressed. “You keep telling me to think about my safety, Bashar, and I reckon the best way of doing that is to face reality. Do you remember what happened to Mary? Something grabbed her. Someone pulled her out there.”
Bashar remembered the cold fingers that had tried to pull him out of the kitchen. The hands didn’t belong to a living human being, yet he couldn’t accept so easily that the dead were walking the streets of London. He had no answer yet, and he knew that if he was going to see Nurtaj again he would have to do what Sam suggested and face reality. Doing so wasn’t easy when it seemed that reality had been turned on its head.
Tony ran his hand over his bald head and sat down beside Sam. He placed his wrench on the table next to the breadknife and dropped his bag on the floor. “I’ve got more tools with me. You’re welcome to grab something.”
The thought of picking something up as a weapon made Bashar falter. He had left his home country to avoid doing just that. He had supposedly come to a safer place, one where he could forge a new life. Though he could sense it coming he had no inclination to fight or hurt anyone else. He had been forced into stopping Angie otherwise she would have killed Bob. Even when Roza had begun to advance on them he had made them retreat into the relative safety of the café front. Something in his head told him he wasn’t going to make it much further without needing a weapon and he looked at Tony’s bag. Had it really come to this, to fighting with hammers and tools, knives, bare fists?
The door to the kitchen abruptly stopped moving and the handle fell still. The café was suddenly quiet and the three of them looked at each other. The only sound came from Lulu hammering her phone trying to contact her boyfriend and the noises outside. Bashar heard faint groans and growls, and he wondered if Mary was one of those making the sounds. Sam had a point. He was going to have to face up to the reality that was developing before them. He had told her the police would eventually come but deep down he didn’t believe it. It was more than likely that they were going to have to face this on their own: whatever this was.
“Maybe we should go check it out. She might need help.” Sam looked at the kitchen doo
r. “What if she’s hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” said Tony. “Sorry, Sam, but I’m not going back there again. You shouldn’t either.”
“And Wilf? Are we just going to leave him back there with Roza?” Sam folded her arms and looked cross. “Quite frankly, if Roza isn’t capable anymore then that puts me in charge of the shop. So if you’re not going to tell me what happened back there, then I’m just going to go and look for myself.”
“Fine, you want to know? Wilf is dead,” said Bashar. Sam gasped, but she didn’t break down. Bashar went on. “Something took him, just like Mary. Something out in the fog took him. He’s not coming back.”
“It wasn’t exactly like Mary,” said Tony.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, somebody grabbed the old woman,” said Tony quietly. “But whatever took Wilf was… different.”
“Different?” Sam searched Tony’s face for answers.
“I can’t explain it, honestly.” Tony shrugged. “Something took him up into the air. He never came back down.”
“Jesus Christ. And what about Roza?”
Tony looked at Bashar. “You want to take that one?”
Bashar pinched his nose and looked at Sam. “She began acting strange. She cut herself and was going to attack us. She said that we were going to die.”
“You think she flipped out?” asked Sam.
Bashar thought it was more than that. It was like she had lost her mind, as if she was possessed or under the control of someone else. “Yeah, probably the stress of all this. Like I said, she just needs to work it out. She’s too dangerous to let back in here. Maybe we’ll check on her in a bit.”
“Yeah, fine. I guess if she’s dangerous. I can’t believe Wilf is gone. He’s worked here for years. He can be a bit of a dick but he’s all right really. He stands up for me when Roza goes off on one.”
The three of them descended into silence again. Bashar listened to the noises coming from the street and wondered what the others were making of it. Did Sam really think the dead were walking around out there? Did Tony think some sort of giant bird or monster had taken Wilf? He almost missed the rattling of the door. It drowned out the moaning sounds and stopped Bashar’s mind from wandering.
“This is nuts,” said Tony after a while. “I need to find my wife. She’s out there. I can’t just sit and wait. I only left her to do a bit of shopping. She wanted to go to Carnaby Street. She’ll still be there if she didn’t get back to my van.” He looked at Bashar, as if seeking permission to leave. “I can’t wait this out all day. You saw what happened to Wilf.”
Bashar felt the urge to flee, to run until he found his wife. Except he could do nothing but wait. Nurtaj was in a plane on her way to him right now, thousands of feet up in the air. Tony’s wife was barely a mile away. He could hardly blame him for wanting to leave.
“I would offer to come with you Tony, but I’m not a fighter. I don’t know what to expect out there, but it isn’t good. People are dying all around us and I think you’d do well to sit here and wait. You saw what happened to Wilf and you still want to leave?”
“What about your van, Tony?” asked Sam. “If you’re parked close we can get to it and drive to your wife. Maybe you can give me a lift home?”
“I’m not about to leave you here, Sam. But from what I’ve seen out there I’m not sure we’d get that far.”
“The zombies, right?” asked Sam, calmly. “You can drive through them if you can’t drive around them.”
Tony drew in a breath. “Well, the zombies, yeah, I mean… wow. Really?”
“Let’s call it,” said Sam. “I know what I saw. You saw it too. Lulu’s friend was dead. That woman whose head you bashed in was already dead. If there are zombies out there then let’s admit it and face up to it.”
Bashar closed his eyes. He could see Nurtaj standing in front of him on their wedding day. He had never seen her look so beautiful. It wasn’t the dress or the setting, or the sun that made her hair look so shiny and vibrant. It was the look in her eyes. She had such utter love and trust in him that he knew he would do whatever it took to protect her for the remainder of his life. He would give anything to see that look again. Bashar opened his eyes and looked at Sam.
“I’m willing to put zombies on the table for now, Sam. I’m going to need a bit more convincing before I agree to your theory. There’s more to it than that. Tony’s right. There is something else out there, something we haven’t understood yet. I’ve only seen snatches of it. Whatever it is, it’s capable of lifting a man off his feet. It’s hiding in the fog. It’s what makes going outside really dangerous. There’s still a chance the police are out there tidying up the streets, which is why we need to stay put and not start talking about supernatural zombies. They only exist in books and movies.”
Sam looked over her shoulder. “What about Bob? And Lulu? Do they get a say in this? Shouldn’t we—”
A huge bang sent the kitchen door flying from its hinges and Bashar felt the warm blast on his back. The shockwave from the explosion sent him tumbling over as the chairs and tables were blown over. He saw glimpses of Tony and Sam rolling underneath orange bursts of flame, before he came to rest up against the counter. There were screams and shouts, and he felt a burning sensation in his shoulder. A piece of the door was wedged into his shoulder, a sharp slither of wood that had sliced through his shirt and skin. Without thinking he grabbed the end and yanked it out, sending more pain around his body. His eyes stung from the fire and smoke, and he called out to the others as acrid smoke billowed into the café from the burning kitchen.
“Sam, where are you?” Bashar used the counter to pull himself up and looked around. Tony was frantically pulling tools from his bag and Sam was on her knees a few feet away. He couldn’t see Lulu from his position, but he saw Bob on the floor too, struggling to get up with only one good arm. Bashar coughed as black, foul smoke began to billow into the café and he looked toward the kitchen. The doorway had been blown wide open and the door was in pieces. In the kitchen itself Bashar saw massive flames licking the roof and the air turn darker. The fog was creeping slowly through the room and Bashar guessed the door to the back alley must have blown out too. The coffee shop had been compromised.
“Tony, grab what you can!” yelled Bashar. He could see that Tony already had something in his hands and was passing what looked like a claw hammer to Sam. Before Bashar could go to them his attention was drawn to the kitchen. A figure was standing in the doorway. From the size and shape of the body he knew it was Roza, yet she couldn’t be standing. The explosion had sliced off one of her arms leaving just a bloody stump. The whole left side of her body was alight and through the tender flames that burnt her body he could see she was still smiling. Her face was charred and her hair had been singed off completely. Roza’s skin was bubbling in the heat and had the texture of golden syrup as it melted and slid down her face. Roza lifted a burning arm and began to walk toward Bashar, her mouth widening to reveal a row of broken jagged teeth.
Bashar looked aghast as the woman staggered into the room. There was no way she could have survived the blast, yet she appeared unhindered in any way. She was still walking, still looking at him, still moving and breathing although he couldn’t be sure she was breathing. The fog was following her into the room, curling around her ankles like a loving puppy.
“Take this,” ordered Tony as he shoved a ratchet into Bashar’s hand. “Convinced now?”
Bashar nodded. “We need to…”
A piercing scream reverberated around the room. Lulu was in the corner where she had stayed, but her eyes were focused on the centre of the room. Bashar followed her gaze and tears welled in his eyes. Bob had his arms wrapped around Sam and had his teeth sunk into her neck. Sam’s face held the torture and pain in, and she was unable to scream for herself. Bob had torn through her jugular and was taking huge chunks of skin from her pale neck. Sam had her hands on Bob’s arms but he had caught her out unaware,
defenceless. As Lulu screamed, Bob looked up and Bashar knew then that Sam had been right. This was no longer the helpless old man who had berated his wife and needed help to escape the clutches of the blue-haired girl. His skin held a greenish tinge and blood smeared his face. His lips were curled back and Sam’s bright red blood dripped from his teeth. He let go of Sam and she immediately fell to the floor. Bashar raced to her as Tony ran toward Bob who was advancing on Lulu.
“Sam, hold on, hold on.” Bashar lifted Sam into his arms and she felt no heavier than the phone still clutched in her hand. Her body was limp and cold, and he held her head up, trying to get her to look at him, to focus on staying alive.
“Sam?” Bashar pressed his hand over the gaping wound in her neck but even without medical training he knew it was too late. Blood was still pumping furiously from her and soaking through his clothes. It spilled through his fingers like a river. There was no stopping it. He wiped loose strands of blonde hair from her forehead and Sam looked up at him.
“She’s waiting for you,” she whispered.
Sam’s blue eyes met Bashar’s for a moment and he wondered what she was thinking.
“Your mother? She’s waiting for you, I know. Don’t worry about her now, just concentrate on my voice, okay?” Bashar felt the strength slip from her and Sam’s body slackened in his arms.
“No, Sam, hold on, please. We’re going to get you home.” Bashar shook her gently and touched her cheek, but she was gone. The life had disappeared from her eyes. Bashar laid her on the floor of the coffee shop and looked at her. How old was she? Barely out of her teenage years and now Sam was dead. He had encountered death before but nothing like this. There was nothing he could do to help Samantha now and he grabbed a nearby overturned table to haul himself to his feet. He couldn’t quite believe she was gone, but he had to do what she had said and face reality. Succumbing to daydreams only meant hesitating, and it was apparent that things were moving quickly.