Devouring The Dead (Book 1) Page 8

  She nodded timidly and went back to her space on the floor close to Jackson. She lay down and tried to relax.

  “Fat fuck,” muttered Brad watching her leave.

  Parker sighed. “I’m going to try to get some shut eye.” He rolled over and faced the window.

  Brad stayed up a while looking outside into the night. The tower opposite was still burning. Nobody had come to investigate the explosion; only more zombies. No fire engine had come to put the flames out. The building was burning away merrily, spreading exponentially, lighting up the night sky.

  Brad lay down to sleep but couldn’t. He felt restless. He didn’t like sleeping in such close proximity to other people. Fucking was one thing, actually sleeping was very different. He could hear them snoring, their breathing, people turning over and rustling their coats. He lay there a while, but eventually, he got up and looked at his watch. It was approaching midnight. He trod softly through the office and out into the hall, careful not to disturb anyone, and let out a sigh of relief.

  Free again, away from the snivelling cowards, the pathetic scum who were looking up to him for answers and help. A couple of the guys were all right: Tom and Benzo. Beyond that, he wouldn’t put his life in any of their hands. Even Parker had fucked up with Cindy.

  Brad slipped out into the stairwell and began walking upstairs, back to the eighteenth floor. For the first time that day, Brad thought about his father back home in Dallas. He wondered if the news had reported what was happening here in London. Surely, with twenty four hour news channels, it would be all over the world by now? The UN was probably passing a decree at this very moment to send in rescue teams and the relevant charities would be ringing their bells.

  Brad didn’t doubt that his father would come and get him. Tomorrow, or the next day, and he would be out of here sipping a cold beer on his father’s private jet, back to Dallas away from this shitty weather and shitty country. He was the heir to the family throne, there was no way his father would leave him stranded here. It didn’t occur to Brad that what was happening in London might not be an isolated incident. His thoughts of Dallas included sunshine, parties, and bars. He didn’t think how many people in Dallas might be infected right now, marauding through the city, breaking into his father’s citadel, killing, maiming, destroying, and eating his father alive. Brad thought only of himself and how he was going to survive; that, and the fun he was having with Amber.

  * * * *

  Chloe was curled up asleep in the corner of the office, a thick A4 file doubling up as a pillow and a bundle of photocopier paper reinvented as a blanket. Above her, Tom read a motivational poster on the wall:

  FIGHT for your customer,

  FIGHT for your career,

  FIGHT to work for the best -

  Fiscal Industries, Going Higher Together!

  As corporate mottos go, thought Tom, it was definitely one of the more aggressive he had seen. There were no birds on trees or laughing children playing on the beach. The backdrop was a computer morphing into a man, punching another smaller looking computer to the floor. Clearly, Fiscal Industries was not short on confidence; this was a place for go-getters and money-men.

  “That’s the way it is,” said Jessica, interrupting his thoughts. Startled, Tom turned around to find her stood behind him.

  “Sorry, I thought everyone was asleep,” said Tom. “I hope I didn’t wake you, I couldn’t sleep. Too much stuff flying round my brain.”

  “No, that’s all right, I’m a light sleeper.” Jessica swept her hair back over her ears in the dim light.

  Tom looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. It was barely three a.m. “Sorry. That’s how what is?” he said. She turned and he followed her back to the kitchen, leaving everyone else sleeping. In the kitchen they were alone.

  “I just meant, you know, how it is here. So corporate and...hard, I guess is the right word.” She covered her mouth as she yawned and Tom had to admit it, even at three a.m., even in these circumstances, she looked beautiful.

  “How long have you worked here?” he asked.

  “A few years. It’s all right, I’ve had worse jobs. I’m pleased I’m not doing the hard graft like most of the suckers here. There are a few good people working here, but mostly, they’re here for the money.”

  “I suppose you’ve met most of them working down in reception?”

  “So you remember me then?” she said stifling another yawn.

  “Yeah,” Tom said, pleased the dull lighting hid his blushing cheeks. He held out his hand and she took it.

  “Jessica. But you already know that.” She shook his hand and smiled. Her hand was cold.

  “You think we’ll get out of here tomorrow?” she asked him. “I’m worried about my mum. She’ll be going crazy not knowing where I am.”

  “I don’t know,” said Tom truthfully. “It’s pretty weird out there. I’m going to suggest to some of the others that we do some scouting around. The front foyer is a dead end, quite literally. I was thinking maybe there’s a fire exit or a back door or something? And if not, then we’re going to need a lot more sandwiches.”

  “Mm, well, I’m sure it’ll all be sorted by morning,” whispered Jessica. She shivered. “Well, I need some rest. I’m going to try to sleep. Good night, Tom.”

  She gave Tom a hug and he embraced her slim body. He could smell her sweet perfume and brushed his cheek against her lush brown hair. He could feel how cold she was and as they parted, he took off his jacket.

  “Here, take this, I think you need it more than me.”

  “Oh, well thanks, if you’re sure. I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” Tom stayed in the kitchen as she left. Jessica resumed her position on the floor near Parker.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said to himself, and Tom sat down on the sofa. He closed his eyes and wondered what his parents were doing now. Were they safe at home? His mother had phoned him earlier so hopefully that meant she was. His dad was a workaholic, so he may well be stuck in his office too. Tom hoped his mum would be okay at home alone. His drowsy mind thought of Jessica, of his new colleagues and friends, of the helicopter crash, of the dead, and of how they were going to escape tomorrow.

  By the time the office door swung open again a couple of hours later, he was fast asleep. Neither he nor anyone else on the floor heard Brad come back in.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Brad looked down at Amber, standing over her. Her bloodshot eyes stared back at him, dried lines of salty tears lining her cheeks. Hew swollen tongue hung limply from her mouth, her red lipstick smeared around her lips. He sighed. He hadn’t intended to kill her. Not here, not at work. He had just got caught up in the moment. He looked again at her eyes bulging from their sockets unnaturally like a cartoon character. Her throat was red and he could still make out the purple traces of his fingers where he had throttled her after they had fucked. Even now, she looked like a whore to him.

  Amber’s body lay on the sofa where he’d left it. One arm had fallen down and her fingers brushed the carpet. Her legs were still splayed apart, her vagina cold but moist. He contemplated fucking her again now, whilst he still could, but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea now that he was here. He had no qualms about going back for seconds when he was through with them, but he didn’t want to get caught at work. If only he could be at home in private with Amber.

  Brad walked to the window, naked. He had fully intended to take her home on Friday night after the party and do the slut there, but she was so damn arrogant, so persistent, that he hadn’t been able to wait. Maybe it was for the best. He hated the cleaning up afterwards when he did them at home. The blood splatter, the hair, the laborious task of chopping them up and dragging them out to the back yard to burn them. A dead body was surprisingly heavy. Still, he supposed he was comfortable there and had his routine. He would shower, dress, and put on some soothing music; Handel was his favourite. Then he got down to the dirty work of chopping them up. Burn them. Bury the charred remnants. Whe
n they were gone, he would shower again and wash the scum and the filth off. What was he going to do here? There was nowhere to dispose of her and he wasn’t stupid enough just to stuff her in a cupboard and hope no one would notice. That was how you got caught.

  No, he had to be careful with this one. With all the trouble outside, nobody would notice she was gone for a while. In fact, with what was going on out there, this was probably a good opportunity. Brad smiled and turned away from the night sky. He could just throw her out, find a window that opened, or if he really had to, just drag her up to the roof and throw her off. Down on the streets she would be just another dead body; another piece of trash to clean up.

  He glanced over at the clock and realised it was getting late. He should get back to the group before they noticed he was missing. They would be cowering under their desks by now, waiting for help that probably wasn’t coming and singing kum-by-yah.

  Brad chuckled and looked at Amber. Shame she had such a mouth on her. She had a good body too. He’d put her mouth to good use, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it closed later. He could’ve strung her along all night at home and really taught her a few tricks. He found himself growing hard again and walked over to the sofa.

  He listened; it was deathly quiet. There was nobody on this floor and no one was coming looking for them. He crawled over Amber and knelt between her lifeless legs, pulling her closer as his penis grew harder. Why shouldn’t he have some fun with her? He could get rid of the slut later. He pushed himself inside and began fucking her cold corpse. For Amber, the night was still young.

  Ranjit flicked the monitor off, horrified and terrified in equal measure.

  * * * *

  Jillian tried to get things organised whilst they waited to hear news from downstairs yesterday. After Tom and Brad left, she checked the internet again, but there was nothing. She couldn’t even get access to any websites; her computer kept flashing up the same old message: ‘Access Denied.’ Given how important she was, there had to be some mistake.

  She called her friends, what few she had, her parents, even her ex-husband, but all she got was dead ends, answer machines and phones ringing out. She repeatedly kept trying security, but was repeatedly pushed away by an engaged tone. The evening had been the same and when she’d woken up early this morning, there was still nothing. The phone lines were completely dead now and her mobile could not get any reception no matter where she waved her phone around.

  Jill gingerly got up and stretched. Her office floor had not been the most comfortable of places to spend the night. Her watch told her it was nearly seven. She was going to have to make some decisions today, as they couldn’t stay here indefinitely. She stepped out on the office floor and was instantly reminded of the images she had seen of a refugee camp. Bodies lay everywhere. She could hear chattering from the kitchen and the kettle boiling, so she knew others were awake, too.

  She decided she would have to send one of her agents down to security to see if they could get any information and find out when the doors would be opened. Someone else would have to go back down to the terrace café and see what the streets looked like. Someone else would have to go to the café kitchen and get more supplies. She, of course, would stay here and supervise.

  Some of her staff, who had already woken, gathered together in the rec’ room and were making cups of fresh tea and coffee.

  “Morning, Jill,” said Jackson, handing her a cup as she walked in.

  “Jackson.” She took it and drank eagerly. She counted nine people in the little kitchen. The others must still be sleeping. She opened her mouth to announce the plans for the day when Caterina walked in.

  “Jill, you’ve got to sort this out, the toilet’s blocked innit.” Caterina stood looking at Jill, her hands on her ample hips, as was her favourite pouting pose, purposefully letting her pregnant belly stick out.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Caterina, but I doubt maintenance is in today.” Jill turned to Jackson and he smiled sympathetically. Caterina grumbled and walked out cursing under her breath.

  “That’s not all, Jill,” said Chloe. “I tried the shower this morning and it’s not working.”

  “Chloe, that shower is only for executives, you know that, you shouldn’t be in there.”

  “Yeah, well I doubt the executives will be in today either, Jill,” said Chloe raising her eyebrows. Brad chuckled. He had never spoken to pimple-face before, but she had spirit. Most people didn’t answer back to Jill like that, not when you were replaceable.

  “I’m hungry, what’s to eat?” said Parker as he and Jessica walked in. He had dark bags under his eyes and Jessica followed him in like a zombie, dragging her bare feet across the floor.

  “Man it stinks in here,” said Benzo. He was eating a limp lettuce sandwich and walked in to sit beside Brad.

  “Yeah, well don’t go expecting a shower anytime soon,” said Chloe. Brad caught her eye and smiled. She nervously smiled back.

  The office was suddenly full of talk: what there was to eat, when they would be leaving, and why nothing seemed to be getting done. Jill kept quiet, listening to everyone, until she could take no more.

  “All right, just shut up - the lot of you!” She ensured that anyone who wasn’t awake was now. The office hushed immediately. Jessica and Parker looked at each other and Jessica had to put her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing out loud.

  “For Christ sake, I’ve got a plan on how to deal with all of this, just settle down and let me get on with it,” said Jill.

  “You going to send us an email?” said Freddy.

  Jessica could contain herself no more and laughed, her giggle bouncing around the room as others joined in. The laughter increased as Freddy’s guffawing boomed around the office.

  “Freddy, what do you...everyone just be quiet, I can’t think...please, this is not helping...I can’t...please.” Jill felt the walls closing in around her. She felt dizzy and Jackson took her arm.

  “That’s enough everyone,” he said, “getting at Jill isn’t helping, and it’s not her fault we’re in this mess.” The room quietened down as he spoke, his voice both authoritative and soothing. “We’re going to sit down and work this out together.”

  “I am so frigging tired,” said Parker. “I need a cigarette.”

  “Guys, you need to see this.” Tom stood in the doorway to the rec’ room. Jackson could see Tom was shaken. Everyone looked a little off this morning, but Tom looked like he had seen a ghost. Tom left the room and walked across the office to the tall windows on the far side. Everyone followed him.

  “Look.”

  Tom pointed to the Akuma Insurance tower opposite them. It was a few stories taller than the Fiscal Industries building. The storm had well and truly gone, replaced by early morning sunshine that sparkled off the glass structures around the plaza. The rain had left the windows sparklingly clean.

  The Insurance tower was burning fiercely, alight from the ground floor up to about the eighteenth. Incredible amounts of black smoke billowed from it, circling up high into the sky where it faded to grey and dissipated.

  “Oh my God,” said Jenny. She took Caterina’s hand.

  “How is it still burning?” said Jessica.

  “No one to put the fire out,” surmised Parker.

  “Fuck the fire,” said Benzo, “look up there.” He pointed up and a few floors above them, a window had been smashed open. A lone man was leaning out. He seemed to be gulping, as if trying to swallow the fresh air. He had a white shirt on and a tie hanging loosely around his collar. On the floor above, they saw another open window and a cluster of people, men and women. They appeared to be trying to talk to one another when suddenly the lone man was grabbed and hauled back into the building.

  “Where is he, what’s happening?” said Jessica.

  “I think...” began Tom, but there was no need to answer. The lone man reappeared at the window holding onto someone else. It was impossible to tell if the other figure was
a man or a woman. All they could make out, was that this figure had a strong hold on the other man. It appeared to be biting him and blood was pouring down the man’s creased white shirt. The two struggled with each other in the window frame. A moment later and they stumbled out through the open window.

  Tom and the rest of floor sixteen watched in horror as the two figures fell, still holding onto one another, through the smoke and the fire to the ground below. There were audible gasps in the room and shrieks from Jenny and Jill. The others recoiled, unable to watch. Chloe started crying and Brad put his arm around her.

  The two figures hurtled down until they reached the ground and Tom watched them explode, blood shooting out in all directions. It was like watching a large fly being swatted against a window, blood and innards spewing out in a thick sticky mess.

  He slowly looked up past the open window to the floor above. Now there was just one woman stood there. The others had disappeared behind her. Her eyes were closed and she was clutching her arms to her chest. She took a step forward, raising her foot over the window’s edge, out into the open air.

  “Oh no.” Tom shook his head slowly and put his hands over his mouth. The woman took another step and exited the building the only way she could, on her own terms. She flew rapidly through the air. Her face was calm and emotionless as she disappeared into the smoke and then reappeared further down. She landed close to the other man, her bright red blood splashing out over the pale concrete. Around the fresh bodies swarmed hundreds of zombies. The streets below were full of them. It was hard to see any of the street or plaza at all, so full was it of the dead.

  “Screw this,” said Parker. He threw up into a bin and walked away, unable to watch any more. Others began to join him, knowing what was going to happen, but unwilling to watch. Tom stared as another figure, another woman in a white blouse, whistled past his eyes. She was screaming and screaming until she hit the side of the building and bounced off. Then the screaming abruptly stopped. Tom sank down to the floor. He put his hand in front of his mouth and told himself to get a grip. He tried to tell his hand to stop trembling, but it wouldn’t. He told his stomach to hold onto its contents, but they refused to obey and he threw up in the nearest waste basket that he could reach.