Adrenal7n

by Russ Watts

  “Where is she? Your wife?” asked Rad. “She in London?”

  “Manchester. She’s up visiting a friend.” Bashar hoped it was the truth. He hoped that he would soon be on the phone to Nurtaj. Carrington could make it happen. That was the only reason he was still with them. “I’ve got a small flat in Ealing, but we won’t live there long. I want to get a nice house somewhere outside of London. Somewhere a bit more peaceful.”

  “My parents live in Epsom,” replied Rad. “I go there now and then to see them and get a good feed. When I’m studying though I share a flat in King’s Cross. I’ve been wondering about my flatmates, you know, if they’re all right or…?”

  Rad tailed off. They’d reached the first floor. The fire exit door was slightly ajar and Bashar saw no reason to stop. There was just another cold corridor inside and he could hear the footsteps of the others still above him.

  “Let’s keep going.” Bashar glanced at Rad. The boy’s eyes looked around the stairwell as if struggling to focus on one point. He had to keep Rad alert and give him something to aim for. If he gave up then Bashar knew he would be walking up the steps with a zombie around him. “I’m sure your friends will be fine,” said Bashar. “What are they like? Tell me their names.”

  “Hm? Well there’s David, he’s pretty cool. He studies like all the time. Wants to be a lawyer. Then there’s Craig and Danny. They hang out a lot together. Craig’s quite immature but he’s okay I guess. Danny’s in his third year. Reckons he’s going to be a translator or something. He’s basically fluent in Spanish.”

  “Anyone else or just the four of you?”

  “Well there’s Jemma. She’s in her first year of Biology. She thinks we all pick on her, but we don’t, not really. It’s all good natured teasing - mostly about her red hair. She’s really cool actually. She has this cute laugh. I can’t describe it, but you can’t help but join in when she laughs.”

  “Jemma? So you and her get on well?” Bashar noticed they had reached the second floor. Rad was better. It felt like he was relying on Bashar less. The conversation was good too. Normal. It felt normal. It gave Bashar hope that when this was all over they all might be able to retain something; that perhaps through all of this there could be the start of a friendship.

  “Yeah but she’s not into me like that,” said Rad. “She’s way out of my league, just like Marama.”

  “Don’t give up so easily, Rad, I’ve seen the way Marama looks at you. I think when this is all over you should give it go. Just be yourself and ask her for a coffee or something.”

  “Oh yeah, right, I can see that. Me bringing her back to my flat for a kebab and her flying over to New Zealand for weekends to see her family.”

  Bashar chuckled and they continued to climb the steps together. They passed more doors and eventually caught up with Neale and Marama. When they reached the tenth floor they caught up with the others.

  “What’s this, tea break?” asked Bashar, when he caught sight of Tony and Lissie.

  “Just a quick pause to let you catch up.” Tony looked at Rad but said nothing. “Everything okay?”

  “Peachy.” Rad smiled and looked at Marama. “Absolutely peachy.”

  “How much further, Tony?” asked Carrington, stretching his back. He pulled at his tie and removed it completely, discarding it on the stairwell. “I’ve just about had enough of today.”

  Lulu was watching him like a hawk. Bashar could see she was eager to keep climbing but a moment’s rest would do them good. His legs felt weak and although he was out of shape it was more due to the fact that they had been running all day with little to eat.

  “Ten more floors or so. We’ll have to check soon and try these doors. The hotel runs up several floors and they built the helicopter pad on the highest floor. It’s basically sandwiched in between offices and companies who paid a lot of money to be here. Prestigious addresses count for a lot. The hotel caters to the truly rich and famous. Luckily for us they like to use helicopters now and again.”

  A loud bang suddenly echoed around the stairwell and Tony looked at Bashar knowingly. “They’re in.”

  Bashar listened and sure enough he heard footsteps coming from below. It sounded like a lot of people all hurrying to get up the stairs at once. There was murmuring too, faint groaning sounds. He knew what it meant.

  “Break time is over. The zombies are in. We’ve got a head start on them, but they’re coming. We can’t wait here too long.”

  “Jesus Christ, I’m exhausted.” Neale was slumped down against a fire exit. “Surely we’re high enough. Can’t we signal for the chopper and get them to come to us?”

  “No, we have to get above the fog.” Tony took Lissie’s hand and put his foot on the next step. “You stop here and the air will be full of smoke and fog. They’ll never see us. We have to get to that landing pad or at least as high as possible.”

  Tony and Lissie started to walk up the next flight of stairs. “We’re pushing on. If I stop any longer I don’t think I’ll be able to carry on,” said Tony.

  “Right behind you,” announced Lulu. She smiled at Lissie. “Good for the calves, right?”

  “Come on, Neale,” said Bashar. “You know we have to keep going.”

  “Right. Onwards and upwards, and all that.”

  “You think they can do something about this?” asked Rad as they ascended the stairwell. Marama had torn a piece of clothing off the dead body in the foyer and wrapped it around his wrist. The bleeding had stopped, but the cotton was soaked through and the veins in his wrist bulged. He noticed the skin was turning black and it appeared as if the infection had spread up his arm.

  “They can do something.” Bashar had no idea if the helicopter would even have a medic on board, or if they could help him, but he wasn’t about to give up on him. “I’m sure they’ll know what to do.”

  “I’m not exactly into this, you know, all this macho stuff. I know I should go to the gym but I’d rather be reading or studying.”

  “Or having a laugh with Jemma?” Bashar noticed they had reached the fourteenth floor. There was the odd piece of chatter reaching his ears from the others ahead of him, but he was becoming aware of other noises. Every time they passed one of the fire exits into the other floors the sounds grew louder. He hated to say so, but it sounded like the dead. It was just mumbling noises and distant groans. Along with the clatter of footsteps below he knew they had to reach the helicopter. The zombies had them surrounded.

  “Yeah, something like that.” Rad attempted to chuckle but broke out into a rasping, heavy cough. He faltered but Bashar picked him up.

  “You know, I’m not exactly what you’d call a fighter,” said Bashar, urging Rad on. “I told you I’m an accountant by trade, right? I left my job a while ago, trying to find something better for my wife. I left my home, left my wife behind. I came here to England to try and make a better life for us.”

  “Sounds pretty brave to me,” said Rad weakly.

  “Not really. I ran. I was scared. My country had descended into civil war. I could’ve stayed and fought. I probably should have. I didn’t want to get involved. Even though it was my country they were tearing apart, my town they were bombing, I kept thinking it wasn’t my problem. I didn’t want the war. I didn’t ask for it. And the reasons for it just became muddled so I didn’t even know whose side I should be on. The bombs kept falling though. When one of our friends was killed I knew it was over. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I ran.”

  “You’re a strong man, Bashar. I’ve seen you out there, how you helped me and Marama. You’ve kept us all together. You kept Carrington alive when we would’ve left him behind. You’re a fighter, you just don’t know it. Sometimes the best fight you can take on is the one within yourself, not with your neighbour. Anyone can pick up a gun or throw a rock, but to move your life halfway around the world to another country, another culture? Now that takes some courage.”

  Bashar’s cleaver banged against the handrail and he looked
at the fire exit door to the fifteenth floor. It was rattling as if someone was trying to open it from the other side. “Well I don’t feel too courageous right now, Rad. I’m just pleased that I’ve got you to lean on.”

  Bashar winked as Rad smiled. After a few more steps and a lot more heavy breathing, they reached the next level. Everyone was waiting by the door.

  “How’s it going?” Tony helped Rad onto a step just above him, where Marama and Neale were waiting.

  “Great. Time for another break?” asked Bashar.

  “Not quite. We need to check where we are. Don’t want to go past it and miss our stop,” said Tony. “It’s a little too comfy in here. We’re cocooned in this stairwell. God knows what is going on out there. I think the chopper must be about here. You and I need to take a little look through magic door number sixteen and see how the land lies. You up for it?”

  “Sure, boss.” Bashar took his meat cleaver and stood by the door. He assumed Rad would be all right for just a few minutes with the others. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Lissie, get everyone up to the next floor,” said Tony. “Wait there for us. If there is trouble here we don’t all need to get involved.”

  Tony blew his wife a kiss and watched her proceed up the steps. One by one they followed her, Marama holding Rad up and Lulu prodding Carrington, until it was just Bashar, Tony and Neale left behind.

  “I’m staying here,” said Neale firmly. “And that’s the deal. I’ll wait for you to come back and keep the door open. If anything nasty comes up these steps I can let you know to hightail it back here. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Bashar remembered what he had thought of Neale when he’d first met him, how blasé he had seemed about everything. Neale had changed over the course of the day. Not entirely, but enough to make Bashar feel almost proud. “We’ll do a quick recon and be back before you can say—”

  “Zombie?” Neale grinned sheepishly.

  “Exactly, mate,” said Tony, slapping Neale on the back. “Right, let’s get this done.”

  Tony gently pulled the door and it swung inward. Nothing jumped out at them and Tony stepped into a plush hotel corridor lined with thick carpet.

  “See you on the other side,” said Neale, as Tony and Bashar slipped through. He held the door open and listened to the dead advancing through the Shard up to him. They were getting closer. He could also hear the faint whir of the helicopter approaching. “At least I hope so,” he whispered to no-one. Suddenly the stairwell felt very cold and Neale shuddered. He began humming a song to reassure himself that they were going to make it. The distant voice of Kenny Rogers echoed around his head as he hummed the tune to The Gambler. Neale leant back against the open door and waited. “Great, now I’m going to have that song in my head all day.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “This is definitely it,” said Tony, as he and Bashar crept down the corridor. Wooden doors lined each side and there was an empty trolley cart at the far end. There was no noise to suggest they weren’t alone, and Tony tried each door handle only to find it locked. “Probably automatically locked centrally. I’m hoping to find the schematics of the hotel. Maybe a brochure or guide that’ll tell us which floor has executive access. That’s their code for the helicopter pad.”

  The corridor was dark with only a thin shaft of light coming from the end by the cart. Bashar wondered if all the rooms were empty. Perhaps the hotel had evacuated. If not there were going to be some very angry customers somewhere. “What about over there? We might find something in one of the rooms.”

  Tony saw that one of the hotel room doors near the cart was slightly ajar. “Let’s go.” Tony raised his knife and put his fingers to his lips indicating Bashar should be silent. Bashar tapped his cleaver and nodded.

  Tony wheeled the cart slowly out of the doorway. A few bottles of shampoo and hand lotion lay scattered around it, and a bucket full of blue cleaning cloths on the top gave off a chemical smell that made Bashar’s nose tingle. Tony put one hand on the door handle and pushed it gently open. There was no creaking sound and it opened smoothly to reveal a luxurious room. On the left side was a minibar, a desk with a telephone and black desk-lamp, and a scattering of papers and brochures. On the right was a closed door which they knew would be the bathroom. At the far end of the room Tony could see just the foot of the bed and two large windows. The room seemed to be empty and he walked to the desk.

  “This is it,” he said picking up a black ring binder. “Give me a second to fin—”

  The bedsheets began to rustle and Bashar looked past Tony to see a figure slowly emerging from the white linen. The woman looked like she had been dead a long time. Her pale, drawn complexion was offset by the dried blood that ran the length of her body. As the zombie stumbled from the bed Bashar stepped forward and cracked his cleaver against the dead woman’s head. She fell back onto the bed and the woman’s brains began to seep out, ruining the Egyptian cotton.

  “We good?” asked Tony. “I didn’t even see her there.”

  “Let’s just get this done. Find what you need to know, Tony, I don’t like this,” said Bashar, approaching the windows. “It’s too quiet.”

  Bashar pulled back the venetian blind and gasped. He had a perfect view across east London from the Tower of London and over the Thames. He could see as far as the Isle of Dogs before the smoke obscured the rest of the city. The fog had settled again along with the night. There was no power to supply the street lights and he saw no evidence of life, just a city ablaze. Fire raged uncontrolled across the whole of the city, burning buildings and razing them to the ground. Thick black smoke churned up through the fog to the sky where a distant yellow moon hovered over the horizon. Occasionally the drifting fog would part to reveal a slither of the city. Bashar saw Tower Bridge swarming with the dead. They were heading south over the river, marauding through the quiet cars and vans. The fog seemed to be getting worse, as it had been in the morning. Was the witch doing this, making it harder for the living to escape? Did it make it easier for her to control the demon?

  “Got it,” announced Tony suddenly. “Two floors up.”

  Bashar said nothing and pressed his face up against the icy cold glass. He tried to look down at where they had come from but the fog was too thick to see the ground. Some of the lower levels seemed to be on fire as flickering orange illuminated the fog. It was proof again that they had to make the rendezvous. Bashar looked to the left and searched for the helicopter.

  “I can hear it, but I can’t see it,” he said. “It’s close, very close.”

  “Ok, well we can still make it if we hurry. It’s likely to be approaching from the west so we won’t be able to see it from here,” said Tony, joining Bashar at the window. “You’re right, it sounds like it’s almost on top of us. We’re going to have to hurry.”

  “Wait.” Bashar put a hand on Tony’s arm as he began to leave. “What’s that?”

  Bashar saw movement in the sky, a blur that momentarily blocked out the moon. It flew fast and was small, much smaller than any helicopter. In the dark of night it was hard to make out, but Bashar thought he saw a glint of red as it flew past.

  “It’s nothing,” said Tony. “Forget it. Who cares? Let’s just go.”

  Bashar was about to turn away from the window when he saw it again. The shape moved quickly past the window, about fifty feet away. The red hair was unmistakeable and the pale flesh both sickening and inviting at the same time.

  She’s waiting.

  “It’s her,” Bashar said. “She’s here.”

  Tony looked at Bashar and swallowed. “Right, well no time to be hanging around here then. I’ve got to get to Lissie.”

  Both men ran out of the room back to Neale. They knew what it meant. If the witch was there then so was Belphegor. She had taken Jo and Amelia from them the last time she had been close, and if she found them again then she could do anything. Bashar remembered what the witch had said to him back at Trafalgar Square. ‘He needs more souls
.’ How many more did London have to offer? Was Belphegor real yet, his hunger satiated, or did he want more? Was the witch here to collect for him?

  “We all set?” asked Neale, as Bashar and Tony ran out into the stairwell.

  “We will be,” said Tony urgently. “Two more floors up. The chopper’s almost here.”

  Tony began to charge up the steps two at a time.

  Neale let the door go as Bashar began to climb the steps too. “So we’re good, right?”

  Bashar looked back at Neale. He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. Should he tell him that the witch was back? Was there anything to gain from it? He wanted to be honest but Neale had suffered enough. There seemed little point in telling him they might have to get past the witch again to get to the helicopter. “Yeah, we’re good. Just hurry up, Neale.”

  Together they bounded up the steps and quickly reached the next level where the others were eagerly waiting.

  “Tell me this is over,” said Carrington, as he saw Bashar. “You found it right?”

  “Yeah we found it,” said Tony, grabbing Lissie’s hand. “Next floor up. We have to move though. The chopper’s here.”

  “Sweet.” Lulu pushed Carrington and they marched up the stairwell after Tony and Lissie.

  “Go on, Marama.” Bashar offered to take hold of Rad but she rejected Bashar’s help.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got him.”

  Bashar watched Marama help Rad up the steps one at a time. The boy was already much weaker and Bashar hoped the soldiers on board the helicopter might be able to do something for him. Even if all they could offer was pain relief, he deserved something. Bashar wanted to see Rad live, however unlikely it was. There had been too much death today.