Death Row Apocalypse (26 page)

“Where’s Stefan?” Lucy asked.

“He’s dead. He was bitten,” Joe responded.

“He was a nice kid. Poor boy,” Violet added.

“Come on, we got to go. Follow me and close the door behind you,” I said, and led the way out of the kitchen.

So far the zombies had not displayed any ability to open closed doors by manipulation of the handle. The only method they employed was one of brute force or sheer mass of numbers, so closing our exit behind us would, I hoped, keep the zombies trapped in the kitchen, ensuring that for at least the immediate future they would not be able to pursue us. We crept along the corridor, then took the first right turn, leading us to the dining room entrance. My wish was to now seal this door.

“I need some string, a belt, or anything I can use to keep the doors closed. It doesn’t have to be strong. We just need to make sure that the zombies don’t accidentally open the doors from the inside.”

Lucy looked up to me. “You guys, turn around.”

I immediately guessed what she wanted to sacrifice and refrained from saying to her that she had nothing that I hadn’t seen before. Her bra would be ideal, preventing any zombie attack to our flank. Within only a few moments, I heard her speak quietly once more.

“Here you go.”

I turned, expecting to see her outstretched hand holding her bra. Instead, she handed me her stockings. I was glad that I never suffered from embarrassment; otherwise, that would certainly have caused me to flush good an’ crimson. While I tied together the door handles with the still-warm stockings, I motioned to Joe.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked.

“We need to get to the roof. Which way?” I asked.

We were now in a part of the prison that his little drawing had not included, and I was hoping there would be an alternative route to the roof.

“There’s only one way . . . Back the way we came, then take a right by the washrooms,” he said.

“What about weapons, or even some of that riot gear I saw the guards use?” I whispered.

“Yeah, near the stairs to the roof. The whole area is for us guards. It’s sealed from the inmates, and we have that stairway as an emergency exit. Sorry, man, but there’s shit between here and the stairs to the roof.”

“Okay, then let’s get away from here and to the washrooms first.” I added, “I want you nearby to guide, and the other guys to watch our backs and look after the old couple and Lucy, okay?”

Joe passed the plan on to the others, and then we started for the washrooms. We were only about halfway down this corridor when the lights began to flicker. Once, twice, three times they flickered and then stayed out. We were then placed in pitch black. I stopped immediately, causing Joe to walk straight into my back, and Lucy made a small yelp as she bumped into Joe’s back. She and Joe whispered apologies, while the two remaining cameramen, Dil and Max, whined quietly.

Dil had worked for Channel 42 News for some fifteen years. With literally decades of broadcast engineering experience, he had been given the task of training up Max. Taking advantage of his new responsibility, Dil was not slow in ordering Max around, especially when there was manual labor or any other unsavory task to be carried out by the crew. Dil was approaching his fifties, balding, and grew his remaining hair to shoulder length for the sole purpose of using it as a wrapover in an attempt to hide his shiny dome. Now, after twenty-four hours without any hair spray, he was indeed a sight to behold. Unfortunately, he now resembled some hippie monk with a sweaty dome.

Max was in his early twenties, six feet four, and had long shoulder-length hair, which he tied in a pony. He loved the glamour of working for Channel 42 News. Initially taken on as an intern, he was soon offered an initial six-month contract after showing not just enthusiasm but also a willingness to carry out the jobs no one else wanted to do. For Max this was a dream job, and he used it to great effect in bedding as many of the local girls as possible. Usually taking only the promise of a tour and a personal introduction to the network news anchorman, his conquests would often pleasure him orally before even stepping one foot onto the premises. In fact, on occasion they were so excited about being invited for a “job interview” they would do him a second time straight after meeting the news channels boss—a role that Dil certainly did not mind playing, as he too would benefit on occasion and would refer to the girls as his “eager beavers.”

“Aw, fuck no. Why me?” said Max. “I need to pee!”

“Shit, we’re fucked,” Dil said.

“Keep quiet. We need to wait a few minutes. See if there’s any light at all,” I advised. Though in absolute darkness, I thought I could make out some of the details around us. Like looking through fog at night, I got an impression of surfaces, and when I turned my head, the impression moved, convincing me that I could indeed see, albeit barely.

From behind me I heard a zipper being unzipped, followed by the sound of water hitting the floor.

“What the fuck?” I said in disbelief. “Couldn’t you wait?”

“Told you, man. I couldn’t! I just needed to—” Max said.

He was interrupted by the approaching roaring that now echoed throughout the corridor. There was no way to know from which direction the noise was coming, but one thing was for sure: they were coming our way.

“We need to keep on going the way we’re going. Hold on to each other and try to run,” I said.

“No way, man,” Max said. “They’re coming from that direction. If you go that way, you’re gonna head right into their teeth.”

I quickly added, “Yes, it’s a gamble. Your choice! Who’s with me?”

“Go,” said Joe.

“C’mon,” said Lucy, and as Violet and Henry were just adding their agreement, Dil interrupted.

“You’re all fucked. C’mon, Max.”

“Are you sure, man?” Max said. “I hear ’em coming, but I got no idea from where.”

“You trust me, don’t you? Then c’mon,” I heard Dil say.

We never did see them again, alive, dead or even undead for that matter.

Joe, Lucy, Violet, Henry, and I headed toward what we hoped was safety and the washrooms. Only a few seconds had passed during the short conversation. Even so we had lost precious seconds—seconds that we would perhaps never regain. It was the screams we heard coming from the direction of the dining room that gave us hope and a much-needed boost to our sense of urgency. It would not be long before the horde caught up with us, and we still had some fifty yards to go before the turn in the corridor. Lucy and Joe were keeping up, but Violet and Henry were falling behind again and keeping us from making good time.

“Come on. Try to pick up the pace. It’s not far now!” I whispered.

“It’s no good, Sonny,” Violet said. “We’re just slowing you down. You go ahead. We’ll be okay.”

“We’ll catch up in a few minutes, son,” Henry added.

“No, Blaine,” Lucy said, almost stamping her foot down. “Don’t you dare leave them here to die. For once in your sorry life, do the right thing!”

“We could carry them,” Joe offered. “Like you said, it’s not far.”

I mulled the options over in my mind quickly. “Okay, I’ll take Henry, you take Violet. Lucy, hold my left arm. Joe, take my right. And no, this does not mean we are an item, Joe! Violet, Lucy, hold your hands out to the sides and rub them against the walls as we move. Joe, you should feel when she’s in contact. Same goes for you and I, Lucy.” I added, “Hey, Lucy. On a personal note, ‘for once in my sorry life’? That was harsh!”

In the dark, Lucy held her tongue and felt a little shitty about her sharp remark but quickly chose to respond. “I just wanted you to do the right thing, ’tis all.”

I grunted my reply: “C’mon.”

We started to trot in the pitch black and were lucky that the corridor was relatively straight, with very few obstacles or doors along the way. With the old couple on our backs, we made the journey to the junction quickly. Had it not been for the cameramen and their choice to travel back the way we came, we would never have made it this far. The horde had temporarily halted their pursuit to feast on the last of the Channel 42 News crew, giving us the time to put some distance between us and the meat munchers from hell.

As we trotted to the junction, Henry cleared his throat. “Okay, son. How the hell can you see in this dark?” he asked. “D’you have bat blood in your veins?”

“Maybe,” I answered. “My mother shared many similar traits with those mythical beings from Transylvania.”

Henry chuckled at my response. Had he known my mother, he would not be laughing right now.

I was beginning to like the old couple. I’d never really liked anyone before, not even my ex-wife. I guess these two were growing on me—literally. So much had happened over the past twenty-four hours, and along with the strange events, I also seemed to be changing in unpredictable ways. I was apparently able to move a little faster than normal now. In addition, I’m now physically stronger than I have ever been, and I seem to be able to see in absolute darkness as well. These things troubled me less than the seemingly new emotional responses that I was now feeling toward Henry, Violet, and especially Lucy. I even felt something akin to friendship regarding Joe.

We were approaching the turn, and so we stopped and closed the last yards slowly and quietly in the hope that we would not alert any zombies to our presence. I slid Henry from my back and heard his bones crack as he straightened himself. I was impressed. He had not complained once during the jog.

“Stay here,” I whispered, and carefully edged my way to the corner and peered around to hopefully see if the coast was clear.

There was a faint light at the far end of the corridor some two hundred yards distant, and only some ten yards distant I could clearly see the door to the washroom. There must have been a functioning light source or even windows, as a pencil-thin line of light framed the large door. This corridor must be the main thoroughfare for the whole facility, I thought. Off to the sides at regular intervals were more corridors, leading off presumably to additional wings to accommodate the eighteen hundred prisoners. This thought returned me to a burning question, though: Where were all the prisoners?

Chapter - 18

- A walk alone in to the dark -

In the dim light, the way to the washrooms looked clear, and so we carefully made our way there, keeping to the darkest shadows. Slowly pushing open the door to the washing facility, I watched for any sudden movement, then entered the space quietly. The others followed closely behind me and spread out as soon as we were all safely inside. The washroom was spacious and illuminated with natural light. It took several long seconds before my eyes adjusted fully to the brightly lit area. To the right were rows of metal washbasins, each with a single stainless steel faucet. At the far end of the row of basins, a large, open shower area with around twenty or so showerheads was located. Above the showers, but well out of our reach, were a series of skylights, which currently illuminated this side of the facility. To the left side there was a row of open-plan toilets. Without any kind of separation between these stations, there was no conceivable amount of privacy possible. Again, the preferred construction material was stainless steel, guaranteeing that the warranty the manufacturer gave would be honored. Besides which, within the prison system steel tended to endure a little longer than porcelain. Opposite the toilets was another row of basins, and at the far end was a duplicate shower facility.

“Oh God, I could do with a shower . . . Is there any running water?” Lucy asked to no one in particular.

No one responded immediately, and so Lucy walked over to the nearest basin and opened the faucet. Warm, flowing water ran out. Lucy made an aah sound as she let the water run over her hands. As the crusted blood broke free and was rinsed away, she looked to the showers and wondered if it was at all possible to take a quick shower.

Joe, Henry, and Violet walked to the adjoining basins and first washed their hands, then drank from the faucets. Lucy splashed water onto her face, washing away the dried blood while simultaneously smearing her dark eyeliner. There was a small piece of soap on the basin’s edge, so taking it, Lucy now washed her forearms. Violet noticed Lucy’s smeared makeup, so taking a handkerchief from her pocket, she first soaked the cotton material, then offered to clean Lucy’s face for her. She wiped away the dark smears much like a mother would do when tending to her daughter.

“There you go, good as new!” Violet said, smiling.

Lucy responded with “Oh God, that feels so much better, thank you,” while displaying a genuinely warm smile.

“What the hell!” Lucy exclaimed, then unbuttoned the first three buttons of her blouse and pulled it off, exposing an untanned, trim torso, with her puppies safely secured in their double hammock.

I was a little taken aback with her display but did not disapprove of the content. I too can appreciate beauty, and I dare say that my eyes may have betrayed my thoughts for just an instant when she bent over the basin and rinsed her hair. Her performance instantly caused my heart to skip a beat as I recalled the mental photographs of her naked body that I’d taken only a couple of weeks ago.

When I eventually took my eyes from those curves, I found Violet grinning at me. She then winked once and carried on with her own ablutions.