The Purple Haze (8 page)

“
Okay now what?” James said.

“
We need to get back....” Martin stopped midsentence. He had heard something coming from just off to the right of the car. He looked in the direction, trying to identify the noise. It had sounded like a shoe scraping along the tarmac. He kept looking in the direction of the noise, then back at James.

“
I heard it too,” James said to him. The two men kept looking in the direction of the sound, but the light of the torch wouldn't reach far enough. They heard the sound again. “Oh God,” said James.

“
We need to go, now!” said Martin, half shouting, half whispering.

“
Wait a second,” James said, walking behind Martin. He removed a flare from the bag on Martins shoulder and popped the top off. The light was instant and blinding. The whole area around them lit up a brilliant red, and they could see just a bit beyond the threshold of the torch light. Still, the noise was audible, only now it was louder and seemed to have layers, as though the same sound was looping over itself. James threw the flare straight ahead, and as it landed, the shapes of figures, dozens of them, where silhouetted against the purple fog. As the light reached the figures, a chorus of moans filled the air. Whatever had happened in the bank to Conner and the dead couple was now happening out here, and James was all too aware that before the fog hit there were massive crowds, possibly two hundred people watching the incident from each end of the street.

“
Oh my God,” Martin said.

James waved his hand towards the bank. “Move, now! Go! Go! Go!” he shouted.

The two moved in unison. They turned and moved towards the bank, but were met by disfigured faces coming out of the fog. James raised his gun and fired single rounds at the figures, hitting them in the head, making them drop like heavy sacks of potatoes. Martin looked back to see that the shadows of figures were now being projected by the blue lights of the police vehicle next to the one they were trying to start. From what he could see, they were surrounded. James fired a few more rounds, dropping a couple more of the corpses. He saw a break in them and went for it. He grabbed Martin by the shoulder and pulled him along with him. They moved as quickly as they could. They got to the police cars at the front of the bank and went to climb over them. As he went to hop up onto the bonnet, Martin felt something grab his leg. He looked down and could make out in the blue light a corpse had hold of his leg, teeth bared and going in to bite his leg. He acted quickly, kicking back with his other leg and hitting the thing in the side of the head with his heel. The impact had enough force to cause the creature to let go and it fell back to the floor. It went to get up again but Martin pressed both barrels of his gun against its head and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in his hand and the head of the corpse was obliterated across the floor behind it. Martin didn't bother to linger on the sight and he pulled himself up and over the car bonnet and followed the light of James’ torch.

The two men arrived at the bank at the same time. They pounded on the glass and were greeted by the face of Mike. He opened the bolt and let them in. As he went through the door, James looked back to see a mass of moving bodies coming through the fog. He got himself inside, pulling Martin along with him, and Mike slammed the door and locked it behind them. The figures kept coming. They reached the glass of the bank and bumped straight into it. Martin watched as they stood out there, clawing at the glass. More and more came, and as they did it became more apparent to James that leaving the bank may never be a possibility. The group stood, gripped by the fear caused by the spectacle of the crowd of things trying to get into the bank to get them. There were too many of them to count in the light available to them, just a mass of putrid, diseased faces, squashed up against the glass by the ones behind while their hands clawed at the glass in futility.

It was Dave who broke the silence in the bank. “What the hell are we going to do now?” he said, sounding like he could break down and cry in panic.

“
They can't get through the windows,” James replied, “This is polycarbonate clad glass, it'd easily hold up against a twelve gauge shotgun blast.”

The group stood there again in silence, their fears slightly eased by James' information. They couldn't take their eyes away though, and the faces against the windows were now becoming more and more mutilated as the force of the massing crowd behind them pressed them against the window. At first they were smearing a mix of puss and blood from the open wounds on their faces across the glass, but as the crowd built up in size, the concentration became more blood, and then bits of bone started to pop through their face. Eventually the heads began popping like zits, and were completely crushed against the windows under the sheer mass of weight from all the individuals surging forward trying to get at the survivors inside the bank. The sight of this made Colin wretch, and Yvonne and Gaz had to look away from the sight and the sound, not too dissimilar of fingernails dragging down a blackboard, of the jagged edges of their skulls scraping on the glass made the whole experience even less pleasant than it already was.

“
How many of them are out there?” Craig asked.

“
No idea,” answered Mike, “but I was handling crowd control out there and I could swear the whole town was watching.”

They continued watching for another minute or so, and then James spoke to the group. “Okay, we need to get out of this area. The fact they can see us is just going to keep them there. Yvonne, can we get upstairs here?”

“
Yes, it’s through the door at the back of the service windows,” she said, “There are some stairs through a doorway there.”

“
Right, let's move up there. They can't get in through here. Let me go and check the back door first.”

“
Why do you need to check that?” Craig asked.

“
Because when me and Mike came in, we didn't lock it. Get everyone onto the other side of the counter, Gaz and Colin, help Dave. I'll be right back.”

“
Famous last words,” said Martin, “just don't mess around out there.”

James smiled at him and frowned. “You worried or something?”

“
No,” said Martin, “I just don't want to have to fight my through a load of those things to come and get your gun.”

James gave him a displeased look and walked over to the counter. He looked back at the window at the horde of creatures outside, still clawing at the glass trying to get in. He climbed over the counter and went through the door at the back of the bank. As he entered the corridor, he stopped to take a look around. He couldn't see anything moving in the corridor, his torch beam shining right to the back entrance of the bank. He held his gun ready and moved down the corridor slowly. He passed a door marked 'stairs', and noted it in his mind. He reached the back door, put his hand on the push bar to open it and pressed it.

He opened the door just a crack and peered through it. Although he couldn't see much through the gap, when he looked down at his feet he could see the fog creeping into the bank like a living organism. He pushed the door open fully, only to be greeted on the other side by the reanimated corpses of his colleagues. The first grabbed at his arm, the second grabbed at his head. He felt the cold, dry hands grope at his face and he violently recoiled, pulling back towards the door. He lashed out with his free hand and punched his colleague holding his arm in the face. The head recoiled but it didn't release the grip on his arm. By now the second corpse had hold of his hips, its open mouth going for James' stomach. The teeth gnawed at his stomach, but the flak jacket was too hard for the teeth to penetrate. The head pulled back with a thin piece of material between its teeth, and James brought his knee up hard and fast, catching the thing right on the chin. It lost its balance and fell back, and he punched his other colleague in the face again, harder this time, and it too fell back onto the ground. He stepped forward and stamped hard on the head of his team mate that had tried to bite his stomach. He felt and heard a loud crunch as the cranium gave in and spilled his brains out the back of his head. James turned his attention to the other one, using the butt of his gun to repeatedly bash it's skull in. By the time he was finished, he knew neither of them would be getting back up.

James realised he could hardly breathe. He tried to control his breathing as he went back through the door and closed it behind him. He slid the heavy duty bolt across it and fell back against it.

“
Oh my God!” he kept saying, over and over again, without even realising it. He sat there and caught his breath. He felt his flak jacket and could feel the jagged, soggy edges of the material that had been torn away by the creature outside. He got to his feet and made his way back to the door of the bank. As he went through he saw the rest of the survivors. Dave had been propped up against the wall, Mike's jacket fastened around his leg as a make shift compress, with Gaz and Colin sat next to him. Yvonne and Craig were stood against the counter, Craig comforting her. When he saw the two of them together it occurred to him that Yvonne hadn't seen the body of Simon until now and clearly it hit her hard. Martin and Mike were talking quietly amongst themselves. It was Gaz who noticed James enter the room.

“
You took your time,” he said getting to his feet. “What kept you?”

James shook his head and smiled. “It was nothing. Just making sure the back door was clear, that's all.”

“
You okay? Your hand is shaking.” Gaz pointed at his hand.

James noticed he was right. He grabbed it with his other hand and held it. “It was nothing.” he repeated. “Come on, let's get upstairs.”

The group moved together and went towards the door. Gaz and Colin helped Dave up and supported him as he moved towards it and the group went through into the corridor. The last one through was Mike, and before closing the door he took another look at the horde at the window. Due to the mess of blood, skull and brain smeared across the glass, only the trail marks left by the clawing hands could now be seen. He turned away and followed behind, heading up the stairs with the rest of them, but before he did he double checked the corridor to make sure nobody was left behind. He got to the top of the stairs and went into the staff room where the rest of the group were. Dave had been sat on a sofa and Colin was moving a small table so he could prop his foot on it. James had positioned a couple of MP5's in the corners of the room, the torch light bouncing off the white walls making enough light for everyone one to just about see each other. Mike caught the eye of Martin, who walked over to him.

“
Do you think James is okay?” he asked Mike.

“
Yeah, why do you ask?”

“
Look at his flak jacket,” Martin said, pointing to the torn material on the front of his flak jacket. “Something happened at the back door, because that didn't happen when we went outside.”

Mike looked at it and frowned. He looked back at Martin. “He'll be fine, don't worry about it.”

Martin nodded slightly. “I know, just didn't want him falling apart on us.”

“
Look, I'll speak to him,” said Mike. He walked away from Martin to James, who was now sitting against the wall under a window. He sat down next to him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

James nodded. “Yeah I'm fine.”

“
What happened at the back door? You're looking a bit shaky and your jacket's torn. Don't tell me it was nothing.”

James paused. “I wanted to check the back door was clear in case we had to get of here in a hurry. I opened the door and the other two officers from my team tried to pull me apart. I took care of them though. Don't think any of the others will have heard.”

“
Bloody hell, mate, that's terrible,” said Mike sympathetically.

James looked at him. “Seriously, don't worry. I think we all need to get some sleep.”

Mike nodded, stood up and walked away. James watched as he checked on everyone else, making sure they were all right. He saw people branch off to make their own little areas in the room and it was obvious to him people were going to try and get some sleep. James took his side arm off and unzipped his jacket. He laid them next to him and slouched down onto the floor. He rolled onto his side and tried relaxing, hoping to clear his mind and regain his energy. He listened and could still hear the noise from the horde outside. He hoped they would leave them alone, but if they were to come in he hoped he would be asleep when they did. He thought about how the day had started, seeing the faces of his children, and of his wife, as he left the home to come to work. As he began to drift off, he hung on to those thoughts. He felt relaxed thinking about them, but he just hoped that they were safe, wherever they were.

Chapter 6

It was still night time when Yvonne woke up. She had been having horrible dreams brought on by the events she had witnessed, most notably the images of those things mindlessly and aimlessly walking into the windows of the bank, only to have their heads crushed to a pulp against them. The memory of the first time she saw one of the heads pop open, spilling and smearing its brains all over the windows was something she would never be able to shake out of her head. She rubbed her hand against her forehead and realised she was sweating. She then noticed how heavy she was breathing.

“
Bad dreams?” she heard a hushed voice say.