The Virus

by Lee, Damien

  ***

  Amy’s world gradually came back into focus as her eyes flickered open. For a moment she was unable to determine where she was. The crushed steel to her side seemed alien, and the lack of sound made her fear she had gone deaf. She moved her arms and flexed her legs. There was no immediate pain. She reached down and tried to open the ruined door of the car. It remained shut, hindered by the bulk of the tree. Amy groaned as the throbbing pressure in her head intensified. She clambered over to the passenger side and swung the door open.

  The road remained empty as she stepped out of the wreckage. There were no signs of vehicles, people, or any life at all. Even the fields were void of animals. She looked back at her car and felt her heart sink. The entire right side had caved in. She felt tears well up in her eyes as she ran a hand over her hair. Her breath became ragged as she tried to compose herself.

  She knew she had two options; either call a breakdown service, or try to drive it to work. She glanced back up the road and saw that she was close to Sunnymoor. As the hospital was on the border of the town, the drive would only take another two minutes. She reached into her pocket and found nothing. She had left her phone at home.

  “Oh, great,” she muttered.

  With the decision made for her, she flexed her arms as she approached the car. The only pain was the relentless throbbing in her head. She leaned over the passenger seat and turned the key. The engine roared to life. With a sigh of relief, she slid behind the wheel. The scrape of metal and patter of glass caused her to wince as she veered back onto the road. There was still no sign of any vehicles; something which wasn’t irregular, but still unsettling. She put the car into first gear and trundled forward.

  After a few minutes, Amy pulled into the car park beneath the hospital. She let out a long sigh as she shut off the engine. The prospect of venturing back to work so soon was daunting. She closed her eyes tight and tried to concentrate on something other than the wild eyes of the cleaner. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves, but a distant shriek countered her efforts. Keeping her eyes shut, she took another breath, trying to rationalise the sound.

  Another scream sounded and her eyes snapped open. This one was closer, almost as if it came from within the hospital. Her footsteps echoed around the enclosed space as she left the car, serving only to increase her trepidation. She strode over to the elevator, a sense of unease creeping up her spine. She heard movement behind her. Jabbing the button to call the carriage down, she turned and scanned the gloomy confines of the car park. Nobody was there, at least not within the limited glare of the overhead lights.

  Seconds passed with no sign of the elevator. She turned and jabbed it again. Movement within the shadows caught her eye. She stared at the far end of the car park, certain that the darkness had changed shape. She strained her eyes, trying to permeate the blackness, looking for a figure, a silhouette, anything. The concealing darkness remained in place, but she did hear a sound. It started low, almost like a drawn out exhalation. She listened as the sound increased, slipping into an echo that surrounded her. It sounded like somebody groaning. But there was a longing to the sound, a hunger.

  Amy flinched as the elevator announced its arrival. She watched the metal doors slide open, revealing an unoccupied carriage. She cast a glance back at the shadow as she stepped inside. It moved again, but this time it wasn’t subtle. With an almighty roar, a figure leapt out of the darkness. Amy gasped, jabbing another button, willing the doors to close. The man sprinted towards her from the other side of the car park, his staccato footfalls echoing around the enclosed space. He drew closer. Close enough for Amy to see the ruby foam spilling from his mouth. He bounded over the parked cars, eager to reach her.

  “Come on!” she cried, punching the button again and again.

  He let out a yearning cry as he cleared the last of the parked cars. He rounded toward the elevator, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the terrified nurse.

  Finally, the doors began to slide shut. The crazed man reached out as he neared. Amy stepped back, unsure if the painfully slow doors would actually grant her refuge from the lunatic. The gap was barely an inch wide when the man slammed against it. The impact caused him to stagger back, allowing the doors to close. Amy heard his indignant roar as the elevator began to rise.

  She exhaled, unaware that she had been holding her breath. She watched the numbers above the door light up, one after the other. As each second passed, fear gripped her stomach tighter. The lift ascended past the fourth floor, where a scream preceded an almighty thud against the doors. The sounds diminished as she ascended, but she could still hear the agonising cry. Her heart raced as she reached her destination. With a prompt ding, the elevator arrived at the sixth floor.

  The doors slid open and Amy braced herself for scenes of bloody carnage on the other side. What she actually saw was a picture of normality; a stark contrast to what she envisioned. The white-washed walls weren’t tainted with blood, the tiled floor wasn’t encumbered with bodies, and the sterile air had no traces of copper, excrement or any other aromas associated with death. The only discrepancy was its sound. The floor was deathly quiet. Usually filled with the bustle of medical staff, the beeping of electronic monitors and the din of chatter, the ward was silent. Outside, she could hear the muffled din of sirens. On the floors below, she could hear a tumult of shouting and screaming. But on this floor, she could only hear her thumping heart and faltering steps as she left the elevator.

  “Hello?”

  She cringed at how amplified her voice seemed on the desolate ward. The doors behind her closed as the elevator descended to another floor. She watched the illuminated figures fall to number four. There, it stopped. Amy stared, waiting for it to move again.

  A gentle clatter down the ward caught her attention. She turned and made her way down the corridor, the heels of her shoes casting a dull clunk with each step.

  “Hello?” she repeated. There was no response.

  She cast an inquisitive glance into each room as she passed. All were empty. She stopped beside one of the doors and peered into the dark room. The curtains were drawn. It was the only room she couldn’t see into, but she doubted anyone was there. The clatter came again, close this time.

  Amy turned and made her way to the nurses’ station at the far end of the ward. Where is everyone?

  She reached the end of the ward only to find that it too was vacant. A desktop fan slowly rotated; its path obstructed by an overturned computer monitor. It clattered against the obstacle again before turning back, expelling cool air to the rest of the empty ward.

  Disheartened, Amy returned to the elevator. Countless questions danced around her mind. Her manager had seemed so anxious for her return, yet where was she? And where were all the patients? What was going on?

  She looked up at the illuminated figures and saw the elevator was still on the fourth floor. She pressed the button to call it and stepped back. The noises on the lower levels had ceased, at least as far as she could hear.

  Seconds passed as she tried hard to justify the strange events. Nothing made sense. Had the hospital been evacuated? If so, why? There was no evidence of fire damage or smoke. And where was everyone at? She sought a reason, but there was nothing that didn’t defy logic. She pressed the call button again and turned to look back at the ward.

  Nothing seemed out of place. The beds in the side rooms were unmade and the computer monitor was upturned, but nothing that evidenced a mass exodus.

  A distant scream startled her. It sounded like it was coming from outside. Leaving the elevator behind, she made for the nearest window. The view wasn’t ideal, only offering sights of the rear of the hospital. She could see the vast, desolate moors and distant hills, but not a single person.

  Discouraged, she resumed her vigil by the elevator. Seconds turned to minutes with still no movement from the fourth floor. She pressed the button again. The number four continued its mocking glow.

  With a sigh of disda
in, Amy turned and made her way over to the fire exit. She didn’t like the idea of descending six flights of stairs, and even less the idea of walking past the fourth floor, but she had to leave one way or another.

  She pushed the fire door wide and left the sixth floor behind. The air on the back stairs was cool, similar to the underground car park. A pang of fear swept through her when she remembered the lunatic. The stairs led down into the bowels of the hospital. Down into the car park. What if he was waiting? What if he came up?

  She peered over the railing, looking into the abyss that led to the lower ground floor. The feeble light of the car park did little to illuminate the base of the stairway, but she could not see any movement.

  She stepped down, her heels casting a dull echo as she went. She could hear her rapid heartbeat in her ears, its tempo increasing the further she descended. The silence was almost too much to bear and she increased her speed. She cleared the fifth floor and apprehensively approached the fourth. There was no further noise, but she could still hear the screams in her head. She watched the door as she approached, half expecting it to be thrown open.

  The cleaner appeared in her mind again. His eyes. His grin. She gripped the handrail as she reached the fourth level, her eyes still fixed on the door. The images were displaced by the man in the car park. The foaming mouth, the longing roar. She reached the door and turned towards the next stairway. Her fear eased its grip on her lungs and she exhaled deeply.

  The reprieve was only short-lived. A fire door on one of the lower levels broke the silence like a discharged gun. The door crashed against the wall as a series of footfalls bounded up the stairwell. Amy looked over the railing, catching sight of two men sprinting up towards her. She made to flee, but stopped when she heard panicked exertions echoing amongst the footfalls. The two weren’t working in unison. One was pursuing the other.

  She looked over the railing again. The distance between the men had decreased. They had reached the second level and were approaching the third. Amy looked around for anything she could use to defend herself. But the stairs were empty. Within seconds, the pair would reach her. She made to turn, but stopped as a loud thud echoed from the level below. The man had been caught. A delighted screech bounded off the walls as a scuffle broke out.

  Instinct took over, and without thinking, Amy bounded down and turned to the next flight. She found the pair clinched on the stairs, both grappling to gain the upper hand.

  “Ben?”

  She gasped as the security guard’s face came into view beneath his frenzied attacker. Another noise sounded below as a door crashed open. With it came a flurry of footfalls as more sprinted to join the fray.

  Amy darted forward and swung a kick at Ben’s assailant. She struck the man’s head, sending him reeling down the stairs. She saw him land in a heap at the bottom before he was joined by others. A multitude of men, women, and children, all foaming at the mouth, stared up at the pair.

  “Move!”

  Amy yanked Ben to his feet as the crowd bounded up the stairs towards them. They ran, their footfalls adding to the crescendo filling the stairwell. They reached the fourth floor, where Ben shouldered open the door. Amy followed, aware that it was too late to voice her concern.

  “We need something to barricade it!” Ben said. He slammed the door shut and applied the thumb-turn lock.

  Amy glanced around the ward until her eyes fixed on a large, metal filing cabinet down the hallway. It was then that she saw the gore-filled corridors for the first time. Blood had spattered nearly every inch of white paint, while gobbets of flesh and muscle were strewn across the floor.

  “We could use that,” she said, motioning towards the cabinet.

  Not waiting for a response, she ran across the corridor. Ben followed, assisting her as she pried the cabinet away from the wall.

  An almighty bang filled the ward. Their pursuers had reached the door.

  “Do you think it’ll hold?” she shouted over the wailing and pounding from the stairwell.

  “I don’t know. Let’s just get it over there.”

  They shoved the cabinet, making slow progress across the floor. Yearning cries accompanied the assault on the door. They were primitive. More animal than human. When the cabinet was almost in place, Amy felt flickers of relief in her stomach. That was until the sound of splintering wood accompanied the banging.

  “Hurry!” Ben yelled as cracks spider-webbed through the door. Amy pushed with all her might until the cabinet completely covered the wooden frame. She staggered away, gasping for breath. The hammering was still prominent, but muffled behind the steel cabinet. The blood-drenched corridor seemed almost trivial against the terror that lurked on the back stairs. She glanced over at Ben, who was leaning against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. Regaining her composure, Amy approached him as he mopped his brow.

  “Tell me what the hell’s going on,” she urged.

  “You don’t know?”

  “No, tell me!”

  “Come here.” He pushed himself from the wall and motioned for her to follow him.

  Amy watched as he made his way over to a window that looked out towards the front of the hospital. She approached, peering out as Ben stepped aside. She felt the breath seize in her lungs as the scene of slaughter and destruction met her eyes.

  Everywhere she looked people were being ripped apart, dragged out of cars, or tackled as they tried to flee. Fires consumed overturned vehicles and even some assailants as they pursued the survivors. Standing on the fourth floor gave her a good view of Sunnymoor, and an even greater idea of how far the infection had spread. Plumes of smoke drifted high in the distance at various points throughout the town. Everywhere, it seemed, had succumbed to the bouts of violence.

  Amy turned away, unable to look at any more people being slaughtered. With an anguished cry, she sank to the ground, hugging her knees.

  “How could this happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Ben replied, glancing around the blood-soaked corridor. “But we can’t stay here.”

  “I have to get out of here. I need to check my family is safe.”

  She went to rise, but stopped when Ben placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Wait. Did you hear that?”

  A clattering sound caused Amy to flinch.

  “I don’t think this floor’s empty.”

  Ben’s eyes remained fixed on the end of the corridor. The screams Amy had heard replayed in her mind. She held her breath as the sound of tiptoeing footsteps reached them from around the corner. Whoever it was, they were trying to avoid detection. Yet the silent atmosphere of the ward allowed the pair to pick up the quietest of disturbances. She turned and watched Ben grab a fire extinguisher from the wall. Holding it aloft, he pressed onward. Amy followed, her anxiety increasing with every step. The footsteps drew nearer. Amy looked on, prepared to meet the wild stare of a demented stranger. But the man that came into view looked just as surprised as them.

  “Terry?” Ben exclaimed. He lowered his makeshift weapon as the older man recoiled.

  “Ben?”

  “You two know each other?” Amy asked.

  “Yeah, Terry’s one of the maintenance guys,” Ben replied.

  “I’m the only maintenance guy now,” Terry muttered, cupping the back of his neck. “Keith and Trevor are dead, and we will be too unless we get out of here. What’re you even doing here, I thought you went home?”

  “I’m looking for my sister,” Ben told him. “She was admitted to the fifth floor this morning, but I’ve not seen her since they evacuated the hospital.”

  “Have you seen what’s happening out there, Ben? Of course there’s no sign of her. Half of Sunnymoor is missing.”

  “Which is why I came back here. This was the last place I saw her.”

  “How did you get in?” Amy asked. “We barricaded the door.”

  “The lift,” Terry replied.

  “You managed to call the lift?”

  “No,
I was on the floor above, I had to climb down.”

  “Climb?” Ben and Amy exclaimed in unison.

  “Yeah, I obviously couldn’t call the lift.”

  “Why not?”

  “Haven’t you seen?”

  He motioned for them to follow him back around the corner. Immediately Amy could tell why the elevator wouldn’t move. The first sign was the pair of legs jutting out into the corridor. As they got closer, she could see that it was the body of a man that prevented the lift doors from closing.

  “My god,” Amy said. She rushed forward, only to be stopped by Ben’s outstretched arm.

  “Wait!” Ben urged. “He might not be dead.”

  “Exactly, I can help him.” She approached the corpse but found a gaping hole in his stomach.

  “No, I mean he might be one of those things. He might get up.”

  “He’s got a massive hole in his chest!” Amy countered, pointing out the fatal wound.

  “He might get up. They’ve been doing it all morning.”

  “He’s got no insides.”

  “That doesn’t matter!” Terry snapped, pulling her from the corpse. “The dead have been coming back to life. And we don’t know how long this guy has been here. He could get up at any moment.”

  “I think we should move him,” Ben said.

  “You mean shove him into the lift?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wait, you want us to drag him inside?” Amy asked.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll do it, c’mon.” Terry motioned for Ben to assist him.

  As the two men set to work moving the corpse’s legs into the elevator carriage, Amy approached the window. The carnage had finally ended. Bodies lay strewn across the road outside with only one or two of the lunatics lingering about. She wondered where the rest of the pack had gone, and how long it would be before they reached more of the population.