Demise of the Living (14 page)

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Authors: Iain McKinnon

Tags: #zombie, #horror, #apocalypse

BOOK: Demise of the Living
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He stepped further into
the room, trying to look past the rows of silver lagged pipes and
blocks of ductwork.

Suddenly there was a whine and
movement from above. Mo whipped round and looked up.

He let out a sigh of relief
when he realised it was just the lift mechanism gearing up. He
turned to continue his search and his heart stopped. Towering in
front of him was a man in blue overalls.

“Oh, you gave me a start,
Thomas,” Mo panted.

“What’s up?” Thomas asked.

“I didn’t even know you were
in.”

“You know me; this place keeps
me busy,” Thomas said.

Mo looked back at the
plant room. He could see a newspaper spread wide open over a
relatively short and flat item of plant equipment, a chair pushed
back a short distance from it.

“What brings you in here?”
Thomas asked. “I’m guessing it’s a quiet day, judging by how little
the lift has been used.”


I don’t know where to
begin, Thomas,” Mo said. “It has been absolute chaos out
there.”

“Agent Orange giving you
grief?”


Agent
Orange?
Sharon? No man, I’m being
serious. World War Three or something has broken out out
there.”

Mo turned and looked back up at
the lift gearing, suddenly struck by a thought.


Why was the lift at the
top floor?” he asked.

Thomas shrugged. “Beats
me. It went up just a minute ago.”

Mo turned and ran.

“John!” Mo shouted as he
skidded into the lobby.

John turned, surprise on
his face. “What?”

The lift pinged and the door
slid open.

A blur of snapping teeth
pounced, growling at John. John flailed his arms wildly as he was
toppled to the floor.

Mo screamed, “John!”

“Get it off me!” John screamed
from behind his arms.

“Colin! Colin!” Mo called,
running in to help.

“Get off me!” John
screeched.

Mo swooped down, grabbing
the boy by the scruff of his neck. The boy thrashed and snarled
with strength beyond his youth. He managed to pull the furious
creature back a fraction. He again called down the corridor,
“Colin! Colin!”

The livid, thrashing tangle of
limbs hissed and wailed, trying to eviscerate the man on the
ground.

The wheeling creature managed
to break Mo’s grasp and fell on top of John again. John screamed in
absolute terror.

Colin came tearing around the
corner. Without reducing his speed, he threw himself towards the
pair on the floor. Colin caught the boy full-on with a vicious
tackle and they went skittering across the lobby.

Mo leapt at the knot of
limbs. He grabbed the child’s arm tight and thrust his knee into
his shoulder blade. Colin rolled free, leaving the boy pinned face
down on the ground.

There was a crunching noise and
Mo’s face dropped. The boy had thrashed so hard he dislocated his
arm from its socket.

He looked over at Colin,
revulsion sweeping across him.

The boy started to turn towards
Mo, no longer constrained by the arm lock.

Mo dropped the lock and the
boy’s arm flopped to the floor.

Colin jumped onto the boy’s
back holding him down with his weight.

Liz thundered into the
lobby.

She screamed, “Grant!”

The boy didn’t respond.
He just continued to wriggle and squirm, trying to twist his head
far enough around to bite his oppressor.

“Stay back!” Mo warned, but Liz
was ignoring him.

Mo grabbed her from behind and
held her back.

“Let go of me!” Liz
screamed.

“Stay back—he’s changed,” Colin
said.

“What the hell is going on?”
Thomas asked, stepping into the lobby.

“Don’t hurt him,” Liz
cried.


Who the hell is
he
?” Colin
asked, looking at the tall man in the boiler suit.

Mo started to answer, “Thomas
the—”

Colin shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. You have anything we can use to tie the boy up
with?”

Liz sobbed, “No!”

“There’s some duct tape in the
loading bay,” Mo said.

“Go get it.”

Mo looked reluctant to let go
of his grip around Liz.

She pleaded, “Please just let
him go.”


Liz, I can’t,” Colin
said. “Can’t you see he’s turned. He’ll attack you.”

Liz fell to her knees
sobbing.

Mo went to grab her again, but
Colin shook his head.

“Go get the tape,” he said.

Mo nodded and ran off to the
loading bay.


Ow
. I think I’ve hurt my back,”
John said, still lying in front of the elevator.

 

***

 

“It’s your turn, John,” Colin
said.

John protested, “What? Why
bother?”

“It’s not like you’re doing
anything else,” Colin said.


It’s just creepy.
Besides, he’s with his mother.”

“That’s why I want someone to
sit with them. I don’t want Liz doing something stupid, like
untying him.”

John hadn’t moved.

“Get your ass up there and let
Mo take a break,” Colin said sternly. “Now go on.”


Why me? Why can’t he
go?” John asked, pointing at Thomas. “Or you?”

He noticeably refrained from
singling out Sharon, his boss.

“Cause we’ve all been,” Thomas
said.


I hurt my back and I
think I might have concussion after this afternoon,” John
complained
.


We checked you over.
You’re fine,” Colin said.


You can’t know that.
You’re not a doctor.”


Suck it up,” Thomas
said. “I once broke my ankle up a mountain and had to walk six
miles to get to the ambulance.
You
fell over in the
lobby.”


I didn’t
fall over—
I was attacked.”

“All right, enough of this
squabbling,” Sharon said. “John, would you please just go upstairs
and keep an eye on Liz?”

John huffed and reluctantly
pulled himself up from his chair.

Colin placed his broken phone
on the desk where he’d been sitting and wandered over to the window
to look out over the street.


There’s more of them out
there now,” he said.

“So what if there are,” Sharon
said sharply.

“Don’t pretend you’re still
working over there,” Colin said, not even bothering to look over at
Sharon.

She sat back. The computer had
a number of spreadsheets and word documents open, none of which
Sharon had done any real work to.

“I suppose we’ll be in here for
the night,” Sharon said, standing up.

Colin nodded.

“There’s a bed and maybe a
couple of blankets in the first aid station,” Sharon said.


We’d better think about
closing these windows. It’s warm enough for the time being, but I
it’ll probably cool down overnight,” Colin said. “People will be
getting hungry, too. Is there any food in the building?”

“Just the vending machines
downstairs. Oh, and there are a half dozen boxes of chocolates in
one of those cupboards. Leaving presents and incentives sort of
thing.”

“Well, a box of chocolates each
isn’t going to cut it.”

“If you have any better ideas
I’d be open to them,” Sharon snapped.

“Whoa! I didn’t mean anything
by it—I’m just stating a fact,” Colin said.

Sharon pursed her lips.“It’s
been a difficult day.”

Colin sensed that was all the
apology he was going to get.

“I noticed there were a few
things in the vending machine,” he said. “Have you got a key so we
can get them out?”

Sharon shook her head.
“The vending machines are on contract. We don’t have anything to do
with them.”


Smash them open then?”
Colin said.

“I can unscrew the access panel
and get in that way,” Thomas offered.

“Will it not be easier to just
drop the cash in?” Sharon asked.


We got enough loose
change? I used the last of mine on the sandwich I got out for
lunch,” Colin said.

“There’s money in the petty
cash,” Sharon said. “I’m sure I can authorise its use in
circumstances like these.”

“That would be the simplest
thing—”

The lights flickered and with a
sharp plink turned off completely.

“What was that?” Colin
asked.

“My terminal has gone dead,”
Sharon said.


Backup will kick in in a
second,” Thomas said reassuringly.

There was a sequential ticking
noise from overhead and in a wave the lights came back on.


See? What did I tell
you?”

“How long will it run?” Colin
asked.

Thomas stood up from the chair
he had been reclining in and looked at the lights as if he could
divine some arcane knowledge from them.


Well,” Thomas began, “if
it’s just the lights and a few computers, we can’t be talking at
much more than fifteen K. That’s not a heavy load. In fact it’ll be
under the regulator’s minimal threshold—”

“How long, Thomas?” Colin asked
again.

“I’d have to check the tank. I
don’t think it’s been filled since the last continuity test, but
these things usually run for a good twenty-four to thirty-six
hours. Maybe more.” Thomas nodded his head as if agreeing with
himself.

“There will be some torches in
the loading bay or the security office, won't there?” Colin
asked.


Yeah, a couple. Nothing
fancy—just cheap double-D flashlights. Why? What would you use them
for?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea
to let the generator run,” Colin said.

”Why ever not?” Sharon
asked.

“Well, for one, we don’t know
how long we’ll be here. Surely there’s no point keeping the lights
on all night while we’re sleeping.”

“There are a lot of scared
people in here. I know it sounds childish, but it might not be a
bad idea to keep the nightlight on, as it were.”

“You have a point, but there
are a lot of those things out there.”

“Don’t call them that,” Sharon
protested.


Whatever you want to
call them, there’s a lot of activity outside. Not all of it will be
welcome. With the grid down, you might be turning on more than a
nightlight—you’ll be turning on a beacon for people from miles
around to see.”


That’s not a bad idea,”
Thomas said. “At least the emergency services will see
us.”


Have you taken a look
outside?” Colin asked. He waved his hand to invite the other two to
take a look. “I don’t think there’s much of the emergency services
left.”

Thomas walked over to the
window, followed closely by Sharon.


Besides, if we leave the
generator running all the time we’ll be out of power in a day,
maybe two.” Colin looked at Thomas for a nod of agreement. “If we
ration it out, only use it when we have to, we can make the power
last.”

“Why do we need it to last?”
Sharon asked.

The three of them looked out
across the vista of the city they could see from their vantage
point. The sky was thick with smoke and the street below was
teeming with wandering figures.

“I very much doubt this will be
over in just a couple of days,” Colin said.

Chapter
6

 

Facing Facts

 

Liz looked at her son. He
was bound with duct tape at the wrists, ankles, and across his
mouth. There was also a knot of bungee cord tethered through a
floor panel to prevent him from wriggling beyond the confines of
his makeshift cell.

She sat on a chair in this
empty office, listening to her child’s grunts echo off the bare
walls.

She had watched the boy
twist and contort, trying his best to break free with the limited
range of motion he had. She tried to calm him down by talking to
him, but he had resolutely ignored her. He didn’t respond to his
own mother. He didn’t get tired of struggling. He didn’t even look
like her son anymore.

Grant’s skin was waxy and grey
now. His eyes rolled back deep in his skull so that all she could
see were the bloodshot whites. Even then, over the hours sitting
here, the last hues of colour had drained from him, leaving him
ghostly and wan.

It was unnatural the way
he constantly fought against his bonds. For hour upon hour he
struggled relentlessly. All the time the child moaned from behind
his taped-shut lips. It was the same moan that Liz could hear from
beyond the windows out in the streets. It was a call, not a plea—a
rallying call to attract the others like him.

“I want to touch him,” Liz
said, staring at Grant.

She heard Mo shift position
behind her.

“What?” Mo replied, genuinely
shocked.

“I want to feel his skin,” Liz
said.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,”
Mo answered.

“He’s not right. I can see
that, but I need to touch him to feel if he’s still in there.”

Mo shook his head. “I
think it’s too dangerous.”

“I’m not going to untie him. I
just need to feel if he’s still in there.”

Mo let out a puff of air
through his nostrils and nodded his head.


Okay,” he said
reluctantly.

Liz stood up from the
chair she was sitting on at the prescribed safe distance Colin had
insisted upon. She stepped across to her child. He didn’t desist
his struggle.

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