Devouring The Dead (Book 1) Page 5

  “Anyway, Sally said the man died, right. They were clearing up and two minutes later, the man was on his feet! This bloke had boils all over his body, his skin was falling off him and...fuck.”

  “What?” said Edward trembling. He remembered Sally. She was a nice girl. Then he thought of his own wife. Would she be at home, too, waiting for him? She hadn’t answered his calls. Nigel carried on.

  “Sally said this dead man just started attacking the doctors and nurses. Like a wild beast. One minute he’s laid on a slab, next he’s up running around biting people. Sally said she saw the doctor go down in front of her with his throat ripped out. She watched him die and next minute he was up and about, too, running around like a madman. She said he ran into the corridor and killed the first person he saw, just beat them to death, and then moved onto the next poor sod. It spread; every dead person getting up and killing. And so on. You see?”

  “Nigel, this is crazy. You can’t be serious? You’re having me on, right?” Edward had turned pale and Nigel was itching to get going. Footsteps were echoing up the stairwell from the hundreds of people leaving below them.

  “I’m deadly serious, mate. Kathleen said Sally made it out of the hospital but the infection, whatever it is, was spreading and fast. She was running down to the tube and could see people pouring out of the hospital behind her. But they weren’t running away - they were running toward her. They were dead, but they were coming for her. Sally was trying to get to the station entrance and told Kathleen the gates were being shut. There was a big crowd and she didn’t know what to do. Was going to run for it I think. Then she got cut off. Kath called her back, but got no answer. We’re just hoping she made it. Kath’s worried sick.”

  “Fucking hell.” Edward put his hands in his pockets. He looked at Nigel, a friend he had known for years, in wonder. “And that’s what this is about? The infection is heading this way?” he asked.

  “It’s not the infection you’ve got to watch out for, mate,” said Nigel, “it’s the dead. If they don’t infect you, they’ll kill you. Either way, I’m getting out of here. Now you coming with me or staying?” Nigel took a step back into the stairwell.

  “No, no, I’m going to tell the others upstairs. Then I’ll get off home. I’ll see you later, mate. Take care, eh?” Nigel nodded and ran off into the stairwell, his feet clattering loudly on the bare steps. Edward did not see Nigel again.

  When Edward had relayed the story to his co-workers, there was nothing Christina could do to hold them back. It was chaos: everyone grabbed their coats and bags and could not get out of there fast enough.

  “Wait. Security told me we should stay put. It’s not safe out there you know.” Christina had tried in vain to make them stay, but they were too panicked now.

  “Come on, hurry up,” Edward had shouted, encouraging his workmates to follow him. One by one they had fled, leaving Christina alone, wringing her hands. She had tried to stop them. Maybe they would be all right? They were probably all at home now, laughing and toasting their success in escaping, whilst she was stuck in the office. Maybe she was wrong and Edward had been right?

  Edward had not been right. When they had got downstairs, many of them already flushed and out of breath by charging down so many flights of steps, they had run onto the wet streets to be greeted by hell. Through the rain, people were running everywhere. They heard screams, sirens, metal scraping on metal as cars collided and the tremendous thunder of hundreds upon hundreds of feet pounding the roads, running in all directions.

  As soon as they were out of the building, Christina’s staff scattered. Edward followed three of his colleagues toward the tube station only to find it closed. There were scores of people climbing over the barriers and running down the tracks past a stationary train. As he followed them past a ransacked coffee shop, banknotes fluttering in the wind, he heard a terrifying roar from the tunnel ahead. From the darkness came a wave of people, running back to the station.

  “Stop! Please, stop!” He heard people call out, but it was futile. Up ahead in the tunnel the dead were coming. Masses of people were still trying to get into the tunnel to escape the streets, only to meet a wave of people, dead and alive, coming back. In the confusion, scores of people were crushed in the icy blackness of the tube tunnel.

  Edward saw the dead rushing through the crowd; biting, tearing, and ripping at anything that moved. Those who had been crushed by the stampede lay still. Those poor souls killed by the dead, or those mortally wounded, soon sprang back up and feasted upon the dead, or chased after the living. Edward retraced his steps and clambered carefully up onto the roof of the coffee shop, as those around him charged around in a mad panic.

  One by one they fled, or were struck down by the dead. Edward pressed himself against the small roof of the shop and clamped his mouth firmly shut. He put his hands over his ears to block out the sounds of the living being torn apart; their awful screams made him dizzy. He could almost feel his own mind shattering. He cried as he waited there for it to stop, wishing he were with his wife.

  Finally, the screams subsided, but the dead did not disperse. They stayed, feasting on the juicy, warm flesh that had been unable to rise again. Some ran into the carnage of the streets. Some stayed in the station. They could smell life. They could smell Edward. They would not rest until he was found and devoured.

  * * * *

  Christina stared out of the huge window, wondering if Edward had made it home. They had left hours ago. She had tried the phones but they were all dead. The internet told her nothing. It was as if the internet was dead too; there had been no news stories of any kind since nine this morning. Since a very brief call from someone called, Ranjit, this morning, she had rung security back every hour but had received no reply.

  She tried looking down at the ground to see what was going on, but it was pointless. The storm had not let up and the rainy mist obscured any vision of the ground below. It was impossible to hear anything either. The silence of the office and the quiet ticking of the clock were both irritating and stultifying.

  Christina walked over to the lifts and tried the buttons, but they were still not working. Presumably in an emergency, they shut off until someone turned the power back on again. She walked over to the exit door and poked her head around it into the empty stairwell. It was bizarrely quiet.

  “Hello?” she said, her voice echoing back to her. There was not a thing to be heard. She did not like the idea of being trapped in here and went back to the office to grab a litter bin. She opened the exit to the stairwell once more and wedged the bin in the doorway so it would not shut on her. If the door got locked, she would be stuck in here forever. What if the police or the fire brigade came, couldn’t get in, and left her behind? She felt much better knowing there was an exit for her.

  Christina walked back through her office slowly. It was so strange to be here in daylight. It was doubly strange for it to be so empty. She had bought top of the range computers and the best workstations money could buy. She rented this floor from Fiscal Industries, because, quite simply, it had the best ‘pulling power.’ She could have gone elsewhere and saved a stack of money. But you reaped what you sowed and up here, on the top floor, she reaped a lot.

  The main meeting room had views over the city and on a clear day, you could see to St Pauls. She sat down in the reclining leather chair she had bought herself and wished today was a clear day. All she could see now was a dirty great cloud chucking water all over her precious office windows.

  She had tried to bond with her staff, but the truth was, she wasn’t very good at that kind of stuff. They got on fine and there was no disharmony in the office, but she knew they didn’t like her. Just look how quickly they had bolted today. Given the opportunity to risk it outside or stay in a safe place with her, they had chosen to go. She could have gone too, but...where would she go? Home?

  Home was comfortable, but to be honest, she thought, I am home. Christina closed her eyes and snuggled into her blac
k leather chair. The scrunching sound of the leather was soothing. It was another extravagance she didn’t need, but had felt compelled to buy when she’d seen it. She had two houses: one in Surrey, one in France. She had two cars: a Jag’ and a BMW. She had two holidays every year; that was all she permitted herself, even though she knew full well she could take a year off and her bank manager wouldn’t even flinch. She was satisfied with her lot. It had taken years of hard work, but she had made it. The houses, the cars, the incredible amount of zeros on her bank balance. But there was something niggling at the back of her mind.

  The sight of her staff running out the door today came back into her mind, unsettling her. Just like her husband, they had run at the first sign of trouble. Her husband had left her years ago, just as her business was taking off. She had told him that she was starting to bring in some real money now, but apparently, that was not enough. He wanted her, he said, not a pot of gold. Idiot. She was better off without him. If he was still around, she’d have had to give him half of everything and sharing was not a natural part of her make up.

  Christina felt awkward. Her favourite chair no longer seemed so comfortable and she stood up. Sitting around waiting to be rescued was boring. She went to touch her wedding ring and realised she hadn’t worn it in years. Come on, Christina, she thought, keep it together. She went back to her desk and pulled out a report she had been meaning to read. The hours dripped by slowly and she was unaware of the time passing. She finished the report and played with some numbers on her computer, making a note to have a word with Janet tomorrow about the Collin’s file, and the lack of increase in funds they were seeing; or not seeing.

  It dawned on her then that Janet might not be in tomorrow. And then she realised that actually none of her staff might appear tomorrow: Edward, Kate, Morris, even Phil, the hunky man who cleaned and watered the plants once a week. What if they didn’t come back? What if they couldn’t? What if there was a serious problem out there in the city and she was stuck up here alone? Christina felt very alone and goose bumps tickled themselves down her arms.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearly five p.m. She tried her mobile again, but there was no signal.

  “Damn it, what is this, the fucking eighties? What the fuck is going on?” Christina angrily threw her mobile across the room and it shattered as it exploded against the Formica wall. She picked up her stapler and did the same. Her mouse and a cat’s cradle swiftly followed, piling themselves on top of the broken phone.

  “What the fuck is going on?” she said again, as she began sobbing into her hands. Her shoulders shook as she slumped over her desk feeling desperately alone and afraid.

  * * * *

  The remainder of the day was boring for some, and a bit of a blur for others. Parker had reappeared with Benzo and a strange woman, and he told them what he’d seen: the bodies, the soldiers, the insane fighting. He told them what had happened to Cindy. Nobody blamed him, of course, but he felt guilty. Parker went and sat at his desk, his head resting on his folded arms.

  “I should talk to him,” said Jenny.

  “I think you should leave it for now,” said Jackson. “The lad just needs some space to deal with it. If he wants to talk later, so be it. For now, let him be.”

  Jillian told everyone to stay on the floor and she would keep trying to contact security whilst Benzo told them why he hadn’t been able to get home.

  “God damn security, that’s what happened!” he said, furious. Bar Jill and Parker, he was sat in the rec’ room with everyone else sat around listening intently.

  “When I got to the foyer, I think I was pretty much the last one there. Most other floors had already evacuated. People were just pushing and shoving and practically climbing over each other to get out. Jessica here,” he said, nodding to the girl sat beside him, “got knocked down and I stopped to help her.”

  “It was unbelievable,” said Jessica. Dark stains on her cheeks and around her eyes gave away that she had been crying. Her legs were bare and she had cuts and scrapes on her knees. For the first time, Freddy started paying attention to what a girl was actually saying and put his magazine down. A few in the group recognised her as the building receptionist, but most just filed past her every day without a glance. Tom recognised her instantly.

  “I was with Brie, my colleague, and we were ushering the last people out when some tosser pushed me over. Benzo helped me up, but then we heard one of the security guards saying they were shutting the doors. I think it was Colm, but I couldn’t see clearly. He hopped through the doors, smashed his radio on the ground and that was it. The doors slid shut and I saw him and Brie running away and all these people outside...I don’t know what happened really. It looked like they were fighting with each other.”

  “Jessica and I went to her desk to try to call security and get them to open the doors, but there was no answer. We stayed a while, ringing anyone we could, but the phones must be dead. We couldn’t find anyone,” said Benzo.

  “I guess they all got out and left you behind?” said Jackson.

  “No, they couldn’t have,” said Jessica. “You can only lockdown the building from the inside, which means there has to be someone from security left here. My guess is it’s Ranjit.”

  “Who’s he?” asked Tom.

  “I’ve met him a couple of times. He’s a fat freak. He just sits in the security office all day perving over us. He thinks we don’t know but we do. You never see him on the rounds, coz he’s too lazy. He’ll be there now, I bet.” She looked up around the room at the ceiling, looking for cameras. “He’s probably watching us right now.”

  There was murmuring and chatter around the room.

  “Well, let him. He’s as stuck in here as the rest of us. If he won’t answer the phone or open the doors, there’s not much we can do,” said Freddy.

  “This is nuts,” said Jackson. “The very protocols and fail-safes they put in place to help us in a time of crisis like this, are trapping us here. We’d be a damn sight better off without them if you ask me. Bloody security are a law unto themselves. I’m going to see Jill.” Jackson stormed out.

  “How did you find Parker?” said Tom breaking the silence.

  “As we couldn’t get out or reach anyone, we decided to head back up here. Jessica wanted to grab a first aid kit so we stopped on the second floor café. Parker was...” Benzo stopped and looked downcast.

  “Is Cindy still down there?” said Tom. He took a step forward from the crowd around Benzo so he could see him clearly. It didn’t seem right trying to hold a conversation when they couldn’t see each other.

  “Yeah, we covered her with a blanket we found in the kitchen. Didn’t know what else to do really, you know? Parker didn’t say much. He just came up here with us. We only heard the shooting from the stairwell. We know as much as you do.”

  Tom sighed. “When we get out of here, we should take Cindy with us if we can. At the very least, put her someplace safe. We can’t let the government cover this up. When the streets are back under control, we have to let everyone know what’s happened here today.”

  There was more murmuring amongst the group. Brad stayed at the back listening and watching, especially the attractive new girl, Jessica.

  “From what I saw, it’s going to take a while to get anything out there under control,” said Parker from the doorway. The room hushed as he walked in toward the water cooler.

  “Make yourselves comfortable, because we’re not going anywhere,” he said. They watched as Parker poured himself a glass of water, then he left as quietly as he had come in.

  And so the group dispersed into smaller groups. Some stayed in the rec’ room where they could play cards, make cups of tea, and chat about anything but what was happening outside. Tom, Caterina, Brad, and Amber went to one corner of the office to discuss what was happening whilst Jackson and Freddy went to another. Their mini society was already fracturing.

  Jillian stayed in her office. She could hear clearly
through the wall what was being said next door in the rec’ room. She knew her task was fruitless. They had had a seminar a few months back on what would happen if the city was targeted. If terrorists planted a bomb in one of the buildings there would be an emergency evacuation if time permitted, then lockdown. So far it had gone according to plan, except for one thing: communication.

  Jillian was supposed to be notified when any terrorist incident occurred immediately. She should have had phone calls, emails, constant updates from one of the security guards. Instead, there had been a blanket of silence.

  The lifts had been shut down, the doors to the building locked, and the phones cut off. All mobiles signals would be cut off in case the bomb was to be detonated by radio signal. She tried the internet, but still had no access. It seemed they had cut that off too. They were effectively in a panic room; two hundred feet high with no way in for the terrorists, or whoever they were. Jill knew though, that meant there was no way out either.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Of course it’s a cover up,” said Parker. “Governments have been trying to cover crap up for years. Twenty years from now, we’ll probably be reading about Zombie-gate.”

  Brad and Tom couldn’t help but laugh. Parker walked away. He didn’t have the energy to get into another fight. He wasn’t ready to joke about it either.

  They had eaten lunch a couple of hours ago and were trying to stave off boredom. Nobody dared to go downstairs again and were just hoping the phones would start ringing and they would be given the all clear.

  “What does he mean ‘Zombie-gate’?” said Amber frowning. She looked at Tom and Brad sniggering. “I don’t get it.”

  “Oh, read a book for fuck’s sake,” said Jenny scornfully.

  “A book?” said Amber. The laughter increased.

  “Seriously?” Tom looked at her, incredulous, and let out a long sigh. “Sheesh, I didn’t realise I was that old.”