Demise of the Living (9 page)

“
It’s okay,” Stephen said
from across the room. “I’ll give you a lift.”

“
Thank you,” Liz said
joyfully.

“You’re leaving?” Sharon
asked.

“Yeah,” Stephen said with a
nod.

“You’ve only just got in,”
Sharon said.

“Look at what’s happening here.
I want to go check on my fiancée, make sure she’s okay,” Stephen
said.

“
But what about the
police announcement?” Sharon protested. “It’s not safe to be out on
the streets.”

“Then I need to get home all
the more,” Stephen said firmly.

Sharon showed her
disappointment with a deep frown.

That old
witch has got a crush on him for sure
,
John told himself. He shook his head involuntarily, disapproving of
his boss’ desires.

“It’s not like the work needs
me,” Stephen said, looking round at the empty office.

“I’m sure there’s something in
the staff handbook about telling people not to come into work if
it’s dangerous,” John threw in.

“Yeah,” Stephen said. He
pointed two fingers at John in a parody of a gunshot.

John nodded to Stephen,
pretending to appreciate the signal while detesting him for being a
young, know-it-all poser.

“
Well, we can’t make you
stay,” Sharon said, looking up from Stephen to address the rest of
the group, “but I do think it would be safer for all of us to wait
here. At least until we can get some idea of the
situation.”

“Have you got a radio or
anything?” Colin asked from his position on the fringes of the
group.

“There’s a satellite TV in the
canteen,” Mo said.

“Regardless of the news
reports, I want to get home,” Stephen said.

“
Stephen…” Sharon placed
a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I just want you—I just want
all of us to be safe and I don’t think going home is the
answer.”

“
Thank you for your
concern, Sharon, but if things aren’t safe out there, that’s all
the more reason I have to get home.” Stephen gave Sharon a smile
and started making for the exit. Addressing Gary and Liz, he said,
“If you guys want, it won’t take much for me to detour past the
hospital.”

“Do you want me to come with
you, Gary?” Mo asked.

Before Gary could answer
Stephen butted in, “I don't think there’ll be room in the car for
you as well.”

Mo looked at the two children
and nodded in agreement.

“
Right,” Stephen said,
jingling his car keys. “Hopefully this is all nothing and I’ll be
back at my desk nine sharp tomorrow morning.”

He made his trademark salute
and blew on the ends of his fingers as if they were the barrels of
a gun.

***

“Shan what do we do?” Karen
asked, more calmly than she thought she could.

Shan pursed her lips.
“Hmm?”

She looked around the dimly-lit
garage before placing the hammer back down on the workbench. The
only light was coming from the chink between the top and bottom of
the garage door.

“There’s fuck-all here,” Shan
said.

“
I want to go home,”
Karen said.

Shan sucked in a wisp of the
hash-laden air through her pursed lips.

“As good a place as any, I
suppose.”

Karen smiled. She’d
expected to have to argue with her friend.

She walked over to the
adjoining door.

“Where you going?” Shan
asked.

“You said…”

“
We’re going out
this
way.”
Shan pointed at the garage shutter. “I’m not walking—not with those
maniacs out there.”

Shan gestured with a
sharp nod at the motorbike at the back of the garage.

“That old thing?” Karen
said.

“Why not?”

“
Why
not?
It’s filthy.”

“
It’s a
dirt
bike.
Clue’s in the name,” Shan said, shrugging.

“I wouldn’t eat the pizza that
was delivered on that thing.”

“So, what—you too much of a
princess to get your ass dirty?”

“We don’t even know if it
works.”

“
Of course it works. Me
and Nate were up the back of the Wreks with it last
month.”

“Can you even drive it?”

“
Shut up! 'Course I can,”
Shan said. She explained, “I’ll start it up, you open the door.
Then you jump on the back and we’re off to your house.”

“Suppose,” Karen said weakly,
unable to muster any more arguments against it. She had never felt
safe on the back of Nate’s bike and she didn’t have much confidence
in her friend’s abilities.

“You ready?” Shan asked.

This was the fastest way back
home and Karen knew it.

“
Where’s the helmets?”
she asked.

“
For fuck’s sake,
here
.”
Shan tossed a peaked Motocross helmet at her friend.

Karen fumbled the catch and the
helmet clattered to the hard concrete floor.

“Diff,” Shan chastised.

There was a moan from somewhere
nearby.

The two girls froze.

The light from under the garage
door flickered as a pair of feet blocked the light.

Shan pushed her index finger to
her lips.

The pair held themselves in
silence, both staring down at the shadow, both praying the person
on the other side of the shutter would go away.

Another moan issued from behind
the door and the banging started.

“
Shit,” Shan said. She
stretched over and picked the hammer back up. She told Karen, “Open
it.”

Karen simply stood there
looking at the vibrating shutters, oblivious to Shan’s command.

“Open it!” Shan shouted.

The moaning became louder, more
excited, but still Karen didn’t move.

Shan stood up and kicked down
on the start peg. The ignition caught and the garage was filled
with the burbling engine noise.

“
Come on, open it!” she
shouted again.

Reticently, Karen stepped
up to the centre of the door and flipped the lock. She was about to
let one of those maniacs in on purpose and it took all her courage
to act. She and Shan were safe behind the shutter for now, but
Karen knew she had to get back home.

She pulled at the top of the
door while at the same time pushing her foot to the bottom. The
door squeaked open a few degrees before catching on something.
Karen pulled down hard with both hands and the resistance waned.
She tugged, dropping her whole weight into the effort. The shutter
swung up high, flooding the garage with light.

The hands had her before she
could react—cold, waxy things with a claw-like grip.

Karen screamed. The
motorbike behind her screeched and her friend blurred past
her.

Karen shrieked, “Shan!”
but the bike had whipped round and sped from view.

Karen pushed back at the
attacker, a man a good foot taller than her. His hair was dark and
matted, his flesh drained of colour, but his lips were red with the
lustre of fresh blood.

“
No!” she
cried.

She slapped at the man, trying
to push him off, but he held fast. A pink froth trickled from his
open mouth as he lent in for the bite.

There was a shrill whine and
the man lunged forward, falling on top of her.

Karen hit the concrete floor
hard, knocking the breath out of her chest. The man landed with his
face buried deep into her neck. Karen twisted and kicked, trying to
free herself when the man flopped off her.

“Get up!” Shan screamed.

Karen looked up at her friend
to see a clump of tangled hair dangling from the face of the
hammer.

Shan offered her free hand.

“
Come on! The street’s
full of them!”

Karen scrabbled to her
feet.

“
Hold the front of the
bike,” Shan said as she hurried to the back tyre. “On three, you
pull the front end round this way.” She indicated the direction
with a tilt of her head.

Placing her hands on the
handlebars close to the steering column, Karen nodded she was
ready.

“One, two, three!”

The two girls lifted and
twirled the heavy bike round to face back out of the garage.

“Get on and hold on,” Shan said
as she vaulted onto the saddle.

Karen did the same. “The
helmet?”

“Fuck that.”

Shan wrenched the throttle and
the bike was in the brilliant daylight of the street.

The wind threw Karen’s hair
back in billowing sheets. Some of it whipped round to be caught in
her mouth. Too scared to let go of Shan’s waist, Karen tried in
vain to blow the hair away.

As they hurtled along, Karen
peered through the fluttering locks of hair at the roads they sped
down. The bike would slow down, twist, and zigzag, and then speed
up again at seemingly random moments as her driver swerved to avoid
unexpected obstacles.

The racing wind stung her eyes
and made her gulp down breaths tainted with strands of her own
hair. Karen gave up trying to see what was going on. She buried her
head tight up against Shan’s shoulder and fought back the urge to
cry.

***

“Do you believe that?!” Gary
shouted at no one in particular.

“
Keep your voice down,”
Liz scolded. “You’re frightening my children.”

“
I mean,
come on
—a
flu epidemic?” Gary said, gesturing at the car radio.

“Last time I had flu I spent a
week laid up in bed. I didn’t go around looting the place,” Stephen
said.

“Then you didn’t have flu,”
Gary said.

“What? You do loot?”

“
No, the
in bed for a week
. My sister caught flu a few years back. She spent six
weeks in bed and dropped nearly thirty pounds. No, this ain’t no
flu.” Gary wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“I’m burning up in here. Can we have the AC on?”

“Yeah, sure.” Stephen fiddled
with the controls on the dashboard and a fan started up.

“I don’t feel well,” Grant said
pitifully to his mother.

Liz hugged the boy close,
stroking his damp hair. “It’s okay. We’ll be at the hospital
soon.”

“
Look. A cop down there.”
Gary said, pointing at the white and blue squad car on an adjoining
street.

“We’ll ask him if he knows how
we can get to the hospital,” Stephen said.

He checked his mirrors out of
habit, indicated, and pulled on to the road where the police car
and its driver were parked.

The police officer stood
propped up by his cruiser. His arms were on top of the roof, his
head buried deep in their folds, the lights pulsating eagerly, but
the siren mute.

“
It’s okay. We’ll stop
and ask the policeman,” Stephen said to the rear of the car as he
slowed down.

“
Ask
what—
directions
? Why the world’s
fucked up?” Gary snapped.

“You’re not helping,” Liz said
from the rear seats with her children.

Stephen stopped the car and
opened the door. With an arm over the roof and one foot still in
the car, Stephen called across to the man.

“Officer.”

The policeman didn’t react.

“Excuse me, officer.” Stephen
said, a bit louder.

The officer’s shoulders
twitched.

Gary unwound his window and
called out, “Hey, wake up!”

Slowly the officer started to
turn.

He looked through Gary, his
face like stone.

Stephen tried again.
“Officer, we’re trying to get to the hospital, but there was a
crashed bus blocking—”

“
Hospital?! Ha!” the
policeman snorted.

“Excuse me?”

“
You don’t want to go
there,” the policeman grunted.

Liz said, “Officer, my
husband’s been murdered and my little boy’s been attacked. He needs
medical attention.”

The policeman slowly
shook his head. He said dryly, “It’s a big day for that sort of
thing.”

“Come on, buddy, help us out
here. I’m cut up all to hell,” Gary said, pointing at the
conspicuous plasters smattered across his face.

“
I’m not your buddy and
for your information it’s
all
gone to hell.”

“What is going on?” Stephen
asked.

“
Fuck if I know,” the
policeman said, shaking his head. “My advice is get the hell out of
Dodge.”

“The radio said we should stay
indoors,” Stephen said.

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard a lot
over the radio since starting my shift yesterday. That makes as
much sense as any of it.”

“What’s that noise?” Melissa
asked from the back of the car.

“What noise, honey?” Liz
asked.

“
I hear it, too,” Stephen
said. He cast around for a moment before pointing and shouting,
“Look up there!”

The policeman turned in
the direction Stephen pointed.

Even from within the car the
noise could be heard building to a roar.

“What is it, ma?” Melissa
asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t see,”
Liz said. She craned her neck to peer out of the back window of the
car.

Melissa unclipped her seatbelt
and threw open the car door before Liz could react.

“
Get back in here!” she
called after her daughter.

Melissa just stood, one hand on
the car door, staring off in the direction of the whining.