by Russ Watts
“As for finding a cure, well that’s a crock of shit. There is no cure. There never was and never will be. There are no scientists, not anymore. There were at first, but they were soon shut down. This place is a quick fix. Agnew can get together with his buddies, and anyone posing a problem is parachuted in here never to be seen of again. There’s no mess to clean up afterwards. Agnew just feeds the media a story about how so-and-so is safely locked away in prison or has disappeared as fugitives, never to be seen again, and no one asks any difficult questions. Very handy. Agnew has got a lot of explaining to do.
“I must make sure this story gets out. What’s happening here is wrong. This place was supposed to be a final resting place for the poor souls who will never know true death. Instead, Agnew’s turned it into a bear-pit; a place to bury his problems where the living are fed to the dead.” Roach pulled the covers up to his neck, indicating he had said enough.
Will noticed Claire and Tricia had fallen asleep whilst Mark and Kelly had slunk down beneath the covers, their eyes drooping. It had been a chilling story, one that would take them a while to fully process. Will needed to know one more thing before he could sleep and scurried out of bed over to Roach.
“Hey, Roach, just in case anything did get in here, do you have any weapons? Anything at all?”
Roach bent down and lifted up a black jacket exposing two hand pistols. “Fully loaded,” he said, covering the guns back up. “Just in case.”
Will nodded curtly and went back to his bed. He glanced over at Suzy who met his gaze.
“Good night,” she mouthed to him, drawing the covers up to her chin. She shut her eyes and attempted to sleep.
“Night,” Will mouthed back. He lay down and looked at Suzy a while before closing his eyes. She looked so sweet and peaceful. If what Roach had said was all true, and Will certainly believed it to be, then it was going to be even harder getting off The Grave than they thought. He tried to sleep and ignore the burning questions in his mind. How would they get to the embassy, how would they convince the soldiers to take them home, and how could he protect everyone when he had failed to protect Wilfred, Rasmus and Tug? Will hadn’t forgotten than Josef was still out there, his body forever entombed in that cold house.
The night was quiet, but they slept restlessly, turning constantly, waking at every slight sound and fearful they had been discovered. Like everyone in the store that night, Will slept badly, worried about what tomorrow would bring.
* * *
Just after five the next morning, another quake shook the building. It caused a small jolt in the building and only Mark woke. He clung to his bed as the tremor passed and looked around. A little light came into the store from the open doorway to the mall and he could see everyone was asleep. Good for them, he thought, get it while you can. Mark had dreamt of Josef curled up in the cellar, the dead boy eating him. Sometimes he would replace Josef in his dreams and find the boy leering over him, ready to take a chunk out of his neck. He had been unable to stop the dreams coming, as if Josef was haunting him; reprimanding him for not helping.
Unable to sleep any longer, Mark got up, pulled on his free new sneakers, and decided to head out into the mall so he could use the bathroom. The regular bathrooms had long stopped working, but Roach had showed them an outlet pipe he used. It was an old air-conditioning duct that had collapsed along with the south side of the mall. Handily for Roach, the top end was sticking out into the mall whilst the lower end deposited its contents somewhere deep within the building’s rubble.
On his way back to the others, Mark peered into a bank. It had been designed as open-plan and he could see all the way to the back. The tills were open, the desks upturned and chairs askew. Thousands and thousands of dollars littered the floor. Banknotes of various colours gave the floor an expensive looking rainbow carpet and he picked a note up. It was a green twenty dollar bill and he thought about taking it. It was useless now, just a memento of the trip really, a reminder of what this place used to be, a reminder of how the world was before the Deathless. Then he remembered that anything could be infected and hastily cast it aside where it fluttered to the floor soundlessly. What if someone had been infected and handled that note? Could you get infected that way? Was it like a germ that spread from one thing to another until it passed onto you? He didn’t think so, but wiped his hands on his jeans nonetheless, and decided his photos were enough. He didn’t need anything else to remind him of this place.
Mark casually sauntered back toward the furniture store. There was no real rush. They were safe and they had certainly needed the break. He looked up at the glass dome in the centre of the mall and noticed the rain had stopped. It actually might be a nice day; the sky was a light blue and the grey clouds of yesterday had gone. Yes, today was going to be a good day, he could tell. They had found help, shelter, food and water. New York all of a sudden didn’t seem so far away. If they got picked up tonight, he could be sending his editor some shots tomorrow. Mark smiled to himself; things were looking up.
He reached the store and stopped in the doorway. He had heard a faint coughing and looked around to see who else was up. He saw Claire sat up in bed and he froze in horror. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled and he involuntarily shivered. Her duvet was covered in bright red blood and he watched her coughing again. She raised her hands to her mouth and blood flew through her fingers like water pouring through a sluice gate. Claire took in a lungful of air and spluttered again, showering her bed with more blood.
“Kelly, wake up! Wake up, it’s Claire!” She was the first person Mark thought to wake. Her bed was closest and she would know what to do. He had no real first aid knowledge, nor knew much about Claire’s history. For all he knew, she was glycaemic or allergic to certain medications. He admonished himself for not talking to her more. If he was going to report on this story, he should’ve spent more time talking with the others and a little less time behind the camera. He raced over as Kelly sat bolt upright, awoken by Mark’s shouting.
Kelly looked at Claire and gasped in horror at the sight of the poor girl, so pale and white. “Claire, what…” As Claire’s body heaved and racked with her uncontrollable coughing, Kelly thought that it was all over for her; that Claire was going to cough up a lung or something. She rubbed Claire’s back and soothed her, telling her to calm down and that she would take care of her.
“I didn’t mean to,” Claire said painfully. She clutched her heaving chest. “Back at the farmhouse on that first night? I didn’t even think about it. Oh God, why me? Before we went to bed, I had a drink of water from the bathroom tap. It was just habit. It tasted bad and I spat it out, but not before I’d swallowed a bit. Do you think it was polluted? Do you think…” Claire screwed up her face as pain wracked her body. She could not talk any more. Kelly kept rubbing her back, trying to calm Claire down.
By now, everyone was awake and alert. They had heard the shouting and everyone rushed to Claire’s bedside. Even Roach had come over to investigate.
“Will, you don’t think…” Suzy felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest. She couldn’t believe Claire was going to die, not like this. It couldn’t be real.
Will didn’t know what to do. He grabbed Suzy’s arm. “Suzy, what medicine did you give her last night?”
“Just a couple of paracetamol, nothing much. It can’t be that, can it?” Suzy felt dizzy. Claire looked awful. Her hair was a straggly mess that clung to her sweaty forehead. Her skin was pale and the amount of blood on the bedspread was unreal. Surely, there had to be another explanation. “She was feeling better...she only had a cold, right?” Suzy looked up to Will for reassurance, but found none.
Will looked at Claire forlornly, feeling helpless. Claire was obviously in a lot of pain. He saw Claire brush her hands through her hair and a thick, matted clump of hair came away. Will watched on astonished as Suzy and everyone else just faded into the background.
Claire put her hands on her chest. “It feels like
...having... heart...attack.” She stuttered the words out between gritted teeth.
Kelly was trembling and she lost her grip on Claire who was writhing around, making it impossible to help her. Kelly tried to wipe the sweat from Claire’s forehead. The skin was slimy and her pores were beginning to seep blood. Kelly withdrew her bloodied hand and wiped it on her side. “I know, honey. I’m here for you. It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.”
Suddenly, Claire sat bolt upright in the bed, her eyes bulging from their sockets. She cried tears of blood and then let out a blood-curdling scream. “Argh!”
Claire’s scream echoed through the whole of the mall. She twisted in agony as if possessed by a demon and began ripping at her nightshirt, pulling it apart and scratching at her chest. The buttons popped as she pulled it apart, not caring that she was exposing herself. Claire tried to scream again, but could not make a sound. Blood spewed from her throat and she began convulsing. Her face turned to Kelly before her eyes rolled back in her head.
Kelly knew Claire was dying in absolute agony. She had drunk water infected with Aqua-Gene 119. She would never get home or see her mother and father again. Oh God, why like this, thought Kelly, why Claire? She was so young. Kelly had never imagined it would be like this. She knew a bite from the infected would turn you almost instantly, but this? This was horrible and she couldn’t bear to watch.
Claire’s fingers continued to dig into her soft breasts, ripping open her flesh as she tried to get to her black heart as it contracted and stopped pumping blood around her body. She scratched at her skin furiously, tearing away one of her nipples in the process, opening up the mottled skin there with her fingernails.
Kelly scrambled back on the floor as Claire spat out sticky, black blood and dark phlegm dribbled down her chin. Kelly felt guilty as she backed away, but she knew she couldn’t afford to get any on her.
Claire’s body slumped back in the bed. Her body had stopped moving completely and the silence that replaced her screams was as haunting as her death throes. A lingering foulness purveyed the air. The blanket of death had settled over the group again and they had been powerless to stop it. They had realised too late, what was happening. Claire was dead and another one of their group had left them.
There were sniffles and sobs around the bed as the reality of Claire’s death sunk in. Mark stepped back, feeling ashamed, not feeling like he deserved to be around her now. If only he had noticed when he’d woken, perhaps he could have helped her, or at least warned the others that she was so sick. Tricia and Kelly were crying, Suzy too, her arms around Will.
They stared at Claire’s lifeless body, too shocked to accept she was gone. Claire was dead.
A single click broke the silence and Roach stepped up to the foot of Claire’s bed. “Move back, Kelly,” he said raising the pistol. He pointed it straight at Claire’s lifeless body.
Kelly jumped up, infuriated. “What the hell are you doing? Put that down.”
“You know I can’t. You heard her. She’s infected. I’m sorry for you, sorry for her. She was so young, but we only have seconds here. Please, Kelly, move out of the way.” Roach stood firm, holding his pistol in both hands. He tried to focus on Claire’s head, but Kelly was in the way.
“No. We don’t know for sure what happened. She was sick. It could be anything.” Kelly sought for explanations, tried to think of something she could bargain Roach down with, but she was out of ideas. Roach was probably right, but he couldn’t shoot Claire, not like this in front of all of them.
“You’ve got five seconds. Claire’s already dead. I’m just making sure her body doesn’t...” Roach looked Kelly in the eye and he knew she wasn’t going to back down. He also knew he was right. Any moment now and it would be too late. He stepped forward. He had to do it.
Claire’s lifeless body twitched and then suddenly she sat upright. The blood stained sheets fell from her shoulders. A quiet moan escaped her lips and rested in the silent air before it registered amongst the others in the room. Her blank face looked slowly around and settled on the nearest person: Kelly.
As Claire’s hands stretched out, Roach roared and pushed Kelly aside. He fired the gun twice, putting two bullets in quick succession into Claire’s mangled chest. In pushing Kelly away, he had lost his footing and not been able to get a clean head shot.
“Move!” he shouted, as Claire swung her legs out of bed, and she reached out for Roach. The bullets had not slowed her. They had torn through her dead body like paper.
Screams erupted in the store as Claire stumbled from her bed. The sheets wrapped around her gangly legs and she fell to the floor just as Roach fired again. His shot scraped her shoulder and whistled past Mark who was running for the exit.
“Where the fuck did she go?” shouted Roach as he jumped back and positioned himself behind an office chair. One bite, one scratch; that was all it took. He had lived here for years and in one night, he had lost it all. He had to take care of this quickly before it got out of hand.
“I can’t see her,” shouted Will, running to help Kelly up. He dragged her back behind a sofa where Suzy was cowering. He didn’t want Claire shot, but he knew Roach was their only hope right now.
“What do we do?” said Kelly breathlessly.
Will peered above the sofa and looked around. He saw Mark standing by the exit. He saw Roach trailing his gun around the room, also looking for Claire. It occurred to him that he couldn’t see Tricia. He bent back down. “Right, pull your boots on quickly, we have to get out of here. Any of you see where Tricia went?”
Claire had spotted her when she had stumbled to the floor. When Claire had passed, Tricia had not believed she would come back. Therefore, when Claire had sat up in the bed, clearly dead, Tricia had still refused to believe what she was seeing. She needed a moment to think, to rationalise what she was witnessing. As the chaos started, Tricia crouched down beneath the bed she had slept in last night and prayed. She ignored the crying and the gunshots, and prayed to God for Claire’s soul, for help in delivering her into heaven, and for the safety of all of them. She prayed for every unfortunate being on this island that would never be able to rest. She prayed that she would make it home, to the familiarity of her own bedroom with its scented vanilla candles and simple furnishings. She prayed that one day, she would be back at the museum, helping Kelly with those late night shifts, diving deeper and deeper into the work she so loved. Please God, please, we need you now more than ever.
Then she felt the sting of the bite, as Claire’s sharp teeth dug into her shoulder.
Tricia screamed in pain as Claire took a huge chunk of flesh and muscle from her shoulder. She tried to stand, but Claire had already wrapped her arms around Tricia’s large frame and there was no escape. Those teeth powered down again, biting Tricia’s shoulder, her neck, her arm, her hands and her face. The screaming finally stopped when Tricia fell unconscious. Claire had dragged herself on the floor to Tricia, unwittingly never giving Roach the chance to put her down.
Claire suddenly saw movement and dropped Tricia’s lifeless body. She saw Mark standing in the doorway who was desperately trying to signal to the others where the escape route was, waving his camera above his head. Claire stood up and then a shot rang out, this time entering her bloody neck and showering the desk beside her with fresh gore. Unperturbed, Claire turned to see where the shot had come from and saw the bald head of Roach close by. She started shuffling toward him with Tricia’s blood pouring from her mouth and dribbling down her bare torso.
“Roach, forget it, get out of there,” shouted Will. He pushed Kelly and Suzy upward and over to Mark. He had seen Claire get up and heard Tricia’s dying screams. They had to leave before things got any worse. He couldn’t believe in the space of only four minutes that both Claire and Tricia had died.
“Roach!” he shouted again, hesitating as the women ran out of the store. He saw Roach firing wildly, missing Claire altogether. The gun barrel clicked empty and Claire was almost on top of hi
m. “Forget it, just move!”
Finally, Roach looked up at Will and accepted his castle had been breached. There was no way of getting to his other gun or belongings now. He was going to have to leave everything behind. He pushed the swivel chair into Claire and skirted around the outside of the store, brushing past Will on his way out.
“Will, hurry!” Suzy clung onto Kelly, watching as Claire shuffled about and started heading for Will. Roach was too quick for her and almost out of the store entirely.
“Coming!” shouted Will as he grabbed his sneakers. He didn’t want to make the long journey to the embassy barefoot. Claire was out of reach and he knew he would be long gone before her dead body navigated its way through the maze of beds, suites and desks to him.
Suzy watched as Will winked at her, jogging past the beds to join them. She watched as he stopped and glanced down. He let out a short cry of pain and kicked at something. Had he caught his trousers on something? Had he knocked his shins into one of the corners of the heavy wooden desks? “Will, come on, hurry up!” She saw him kick out again, twice, and then he seemed to wobble. It was as if he were drunk.
Will looked down at his watch: five thirty one. Ashen faced, he looked up at Suzy and his eyes widened. ‘Suzy Q...’ he mouthed silently. He raised his hand up as if to wave and then dropped it again.
Suzy’s face went from confusion to disbelief to horror. Will looked as if he was going to pass out. Blood began to dribble from his mouth and he stumbled forward a few more feet before collapsing over onto the floor. Suzy watched as Tricia’s reanimated body surfaced from behind the bed and staggered to its feet. Tricia was soaked in her own warm blood and her mouth was chewing on a lump of grisly, hairy skin. Suzy didn’t need to see the bite marks on Will’s ankle, nor the gaping hole Tricia had left above his fibula; she knew he was gone.