by Wood, Kolin
Chapter 19
The torch beam reflected a kaleidoscope of light against the slime-covered walls of the tunnel. The air, rancid with the smell of waste, felt hot on his sweaty face. Norris Tuttle walked slowly, careful not to allow the water to spill over into his boots. As he walked, he whistled. The tune was jaunty; an old song from his childhood.
Come on, come on, follow the piper. We’ll dance along, as we sing this song, follow the pied piper.
In his hand he held a large, wooden club.
No cage weighing him down this time though. No more running. Things would be different this time.
Ever since he’d caught the rat, the big one, his traps had been empty. No rats meant no money, and his stomach growled in response to the thought.
Must be another one, scaring them all off. But don’t worry, I’ll soon sort that.
The big rats would net him a fortune, he was sure of it. Chef would love more of the big ones. He would be able to name his price, sure he would. Buy himself a bottle of home brew, a big one this time.
The tunnel branched and Norris kept to the right, retracing his steps to where he’d first seen it. He swung the heavy club first one way and then the other, relishing the swish.
One swift blow to the head; that’s all it will take to send the diseased little fucker back to hell. Cave his brains in.
The sound of something splashing nearby drew him to a stop. Piles of floating rubbish knocked against the rubber of his boots. Another splash behind and he spun quickly, scouring the torch light across the busy surface of the turgid liquid. The walls glistened with running water. Drops fell from the ceiling onto his head and ran down his face.
Where you be, you little black bastard?
Norris smiled a gummy smile of no teeth.
C’mon. Don’t be shy.
He continued up the tunnel, his feet slow, straining his ears to hear. A ladder to one side of him led to a sealed hatch above. The blockage was not far now. If he didn’t find the rat soon, he would have to retrace his steps, maybe try the other passage. It would be a right old pain but he would do it, regardless. He wouldn’t give up until he found what he was looking for; he couldn’t afford to.
A few more steps and the air turned sour, forcing him to a stop. He knew that smell, knew it well, in fact. It was the smell of them, the rats.
They must be close.
He coughed and the sound bounced around the tunnel.
Another splash, louder this time, from somewhere up ahead. Then another.
Suddenly, the space came alive with the sound of turbulent water. Air, thick with the smell of rats, rushed past his face.
Suddenly panicked, Norris tried to turn and run, but his feet felt like they had been encased in concrete. He reached for the ladder, managed to get a foot hold on one of the slippery rungs, and watched on helplessly.
At first, he thought the tunnel had flooded. He prepared himself to hold his breath. But as the moving shadow met the dim light of his torch, he saw them: red eyes, thousands of them.
He screamed as the black wall of death bore down on him, filling the space from the floor to the ceiling. The last thing Norris Tuttle felt as his body was ripped to pieces was a thousand sharp teeth biting every part of his body at once.
Chapter 20
Juliana could not move. Her shoulders held stiff and frozen in shock. The ladder lay on the floor at her feet, so close and yet completely unreachable. A breeze played through the cracks in the walls. Clutching her sleeve to her face, she held her breath. The soft pattering of feet outside continued to chill her to her bones. There were more of them now, she was sure of that, circling the hut front and back, like hungry sharks around a sinking boat.
Above her, partially obscured by shadows, Tanner’s face looked down from the black hole of the loft hatch, a finger pressed firmly to his lips. His eyes twinkled in the darkness, their serious intent clear. He had no idea what was hunting them outside, but he knew enough to trust her. If truth be told, she didn’t know the exact extent of the danger that they were in either. Watching them pour out of that building had stirred a memory inside of her, a memory that she had tried to suppress. It was something in the way that they had moved: the bent over posture, almost like an animal’s, the jerky movements of the head and limbs. The numbers had moved in the same way, hunting them in the dark with their ragged breaths, bloody eyes, and a taste for human flesh. She wondered how it could be that the man, this Tidus Church, had harboured what looked like hundreds of the things. Things that were outside right now, waiting to rip her limb from limb. Things like One Six Four.
Juliana released a long, slow breath from her lungs and raised her rifle. Beads of sweat trickled from her hairline and gathered on her nose. With every passing second, the light from outside continued to fade, enlarging the corners as dusk conceded to night. She knew that soon, it would be too dark to see.
At the back of the room, the floor boards appeared to have suffered less from the rot and decay, and she found herself treading toward them in the hope of better footing. There was a dull glint of steel as the double barrel of Tanner’s gun dropped down through the hatch to aim at the door. The small bag on her back touched the wall behind. She felt the cold, dry wood with her fingers; rotten but still firm enough to offer her some resistance. Nothing would be breaking through it anytime soon.
A scraping sound against the wall caused her to turn on a heel and pull the gun back level with her cheek. She had no idea how many of them were out there. She had seen perhaps three break from the tree line; however, many more could have joined in the chase since then. She wondered how clever they were, and if they still maintained any of their most basic human instincts. Instincts other than ‘hunt and kill’.
The door behind her was suddenly flung open with a loud bang. She spun in time to see the shape burst into the room. It was crouched low and moved with surprising speed. Bloodshot eyes cut red slits in the sickly, yellow-skinned face as the moon lit up the scene behind it with an eerie, translucent glow.
Juliana pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked hard into her shoulder, forcing her to step back into the wall for support. Wood splintered as the bullet struck the door frame a few inches above where the thing had been standing only a few moments before.
Shit!
She panicked as her fingers fumbled to load another round into the chamber. The shadows marred her vision, camouflaging the things’ movements, but she could hear it, the sound like the slow release of pressurised steam.
It was almost upon her. Floorboards cracked in the darkness and she heard a grunt as it fell through the rotten surface, perhaps buying her a few more moments. Her fingers found the lever. She pulled hard, relieved as she felt the snap.
She raised the barrel just as another flash lit up the darkness. The accompanying boom shook the ramshackle building, slamming from the dense, wet walls to reverberate inside like a ball in a pinball machine. Tanner had fired down from above. The resultant bang caused her to flinch and she squeezed down on her own trigger again, adding to the cacophony.
“Juliana?” Tanner hissed.
The acrid smell of gunpowder accompanied the cloud that served to smother anything but the very floorboards at her feet. For a few seconds, she just listened, hoping that the cloud would disperse quickly.
“Still here,” she called up. “I think we hit it.”
“Quickly! The ladder…”
Juliana didn’t need the prompt. With her ears ringing and her jaw tense, she ran back to the centre of the room. On the floor, a few feet to her right, the shadows revealed a crumpled shape. The shape was prone and still.
“Hurry!”
The ladder lay only a few steps away, so she set her gun on the floor and reached down to pick it up. The frame was long and old, far heavier than it looked. Juliana sucked in a deep, smoky breath and heaved, relieved as she felt it slide across the floor.
“That’s it. Pull the base over and walk it up to me,” Tanner ca
lled out, thrusting a filthy hand and wrist through the cracked dark fissure above. “I’ll reach down and hold it.”
Juliana yanked again. At the other end of the ladder, a large lump of wet plaster and wood was still attached, weighing it down, but there was no time to fret. Straining with all of her might, she pulled until she could feel the rough and cold aluminium frame cutting into the soft flesh on the palm of her hands.
“There; now it’ll reach. Pick it up and walk it up to me, nice and slowly, hand over hand.”
The sounds of the two shots still rang like sirens in her ears. Juliana raised her arms, feeling the bite of lactic acid, and began to do as instructed, walking it into an upright position below the hole. Conveniently, the plaster and wood that had acted as an anchor to her earlier efforts, now served to hold the other end in place. Above, she heard Tanner groan as he stretched for it.
“Nearly there.”
The weight of the upright ladder pushed down on her heavily, forcing her wrists back. The higher she pushed it, the more precarious it felt. Just as she thought that she could not hold the weight or lift another inch, Tanner grabbed a hold of a rung and pulled it straight. The weight dissipated immediately.
“Got it,” he shouted. “Now climb, quickly!”
She began to climb. Up she went, higher and higher, her movements slow and steady on account of having to hold onto her rifle with her free hand. Reach and step. Reach and step. Closer to the hole she became, until she could see Tanner’s face looking down at her from the shadows.
Almost there.
A fall would almost certainly injure or even kill her.
Reach and step—just a few more rungs.
As her face drew closer to the edge of the broken hatch, she smiled with relief. Tanner returned the gesture with a nod, forcing a show of teeth against the obvious strain.
She opened her mouth to speak, just as his face dropped like a stone. There was no need for words. His clear blue eyes told the story for themselves. Something was in the room behind her.
“CLIMB!”
Tanner’s shout slammed into her and she flinched. The ladder began to shake violently and for a moment, Juliana thought that she might be thrown free. Desperately, she clung on, hooking her arm through the rung closest and wrapping it with her elbow.
“They’re coming!”
Juliana chanced a look down.
At the bottom of the ladder, some of the things had congregated, disguised by the dirt of their faces. Shadows bounced and moved. Yellow skin flashed on their bald heads. Shouting and roaring ensued.
Terror gripped her as one of them jumped and took hold of the ladder, pulling itself clear of the rest. It began to climb, scaling the steps with the litheness of a jungle cat.
They can climb.
She glanced back up at Tanner as the ladder began to shake worse than before. His teeth were gritted.
“Aaaargh!”
The weight was clearly too much; he wouldn’t be able to hold it for much longer.
Sucking in a deep breath Juliana began to move again, using the same slow and steady steps as before. She thought about dropping the rifle but quickly dispelled the thought; without their weapons, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Reach and step.
She could now hear the slamming of feet on the rungs below, banging away like automatic gunfire. It was moving fast. She was only a few feet from the hole. If she stretched she thought that maybe she could touch Tanner’s arm.
A feeling of pressure on the back of her right calf, and she cried out in shock. The thing had attached itself to her and was trying to pull her down off the ladder. An image of falling through the blackness, of landing with a smash of bones on the damp floor below, of teeth ripping through her skin, jarred her into action. Move or die.
Unable to lift her right leg, she kicked out with the other, pulling her upper body closer to the ladder until even her chin had hooked over a rung for support. She felt the crunch of an impact beneath the sole of her foot, followed by a noise like an emphysema victim coughing, but still it clung on.
The shaking worsened. Its body was heavy; far heavier than hers, and it felt as though it was using its entire weight to try and rip her free of her foothold.
“Grab… my… hand…” Tanner’s face dripped with sweat.
Juliana looked up at his arm. Thick muscles bulged below his elbow. Another jerk from below and she felt the bottom of her jaw slam into the rung below her chin, forcing pressure on her windpipe. Another pull like that and she would be wrenched free.
“I… can’t… hold… it!”
She screamed, stamping down with her free leg again and again. She could feel the crunch of the bottom of her boot against bone. Something grasped for it, but she was kicking too hard. The muscles in her thigh burned with exertion. Through squinted eyes, she could see her rifle, wrapped uselessly around the ladder right in front of her face. But there was no way that she could let go. With every ounce of energy that she could summon, Juliana raised her leg and stamped down as hard as she could. The effect was immediate. The pressure on her ankle subsided and suddenly, the ladder stopped shaking. A loud bang, followed by a howl of pain, filled the room below her.
With burning relief, she raised her head and began to climb again, clearing the final rungs in no time, not stopping until her fingers touched the cold, sharp edge of the hatch. She pulled with all of her might, immediately aware of the stifling heat from the roof space as it surrounded her face. Her shoulder ached with fatigue as she lifted her weapon and passed it up through the hole. Able to use both hands, she pulled the last of her body through with ease.
Below, and the ladder started to shake once again. Red eyes shone like rubies in the gloom. Flashes of yellow skin streaked with blood as another of the things began to scale towards them.
With her eyes now adjusted to the darkness, Juliana noticed that Tanner had hooked his leg around a roof strut—a three by two inch of wood—the only thing stopping him from plunging headlong into the maelstrom below. She reached down and patted him on the hip, while at the same time, taking hold of his shirt to hold him in place.
Tanner let go of the ladder and turned to pull himself up. A few seconds later, she heard the crash, followed by more howling from below. But this time she didn’t look. With her legs still dangling in the free air she lay back on the hot chipboard and sucked in a stifled breath.
Chapter 21
Sweat streamed from his face and pooled in the pits of his eyes as Tanner collapsed back on the board beside Juliana. The surface was warm, as though it had been left to rest in the sun, and the air around his face was so hot that it burned his nostrils. His head thumped with pain. He opened and closed his fist. Shooting pains ran from his fingers to his elbow, electric pulses that bit tight, threatening cramp. Below in the dark room, a cacophony of rage ensued. Abrasive screams rang out as the ladder was smashed and thrown around.
What the hell are those things?
They were people —of that much he could be certain; the one on the ladder had gotten close enough for him to get a good look. They were people but they were clearly very sick, or infected in some way. The skin looked a deep, jaundiced shade of yellow. Foam and saliva had clung to its mouth and nose in symptoms similar to those of a rabid animal. But it had been the eyes that had scared him the most: so bloodshot as to look like they had been removed, blood-filled pits in the midst of a hate-filled, yellow mask.
He felt something warm and soft touch his forearm and he turned to see the ghostly shadow of Juliana looking down at him. She was propped up on one elbow and her hair hung in sweaty strands on her face like streaks of camouflage.
“Thanks,” she said, squeezing gently.
Tanner nodded. “Thought we were both going down there at one point.”
He clenched his fist again and winced at the pain. He saw that her eyes were glistening in the darkness.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“I’ll be
okay,” he replied.
But in truth, he was not sure that his arm had escaped unscathed. Aside from the shooting pains, his shoulder throbbed worse than before. It had almost been pulled clean from its socket. He tried to sit forward, grimacing as he felt the lacerations on the backs of his knees from where he had hooked his legs around the roof beam. Underneath them, the commotion continued.
“What are those things?” he asked, finding balance on one elbow and swallowing the sickness in his mouth. He’d never felt so hot or weak. Even though Juliana had not said as much, she knew more than she was letting on. He heard a small sigh and saw her shake her head.
“I… I’m not sure,” she said, in a voice far less assertive than normal. “But the way they move, those eyes… it was the same with the numbers; One Six Four moved the same way.”
For a few moments, Tanner processed what he was hearing. One Six Four was the monster from the prison, the killer, the man locked up like an animal in the dungeons by that twisted fuck, Cole. But how could there suddenly be so many of them? And why now?
“They look sick… infected somehow,” he said, as his head swooned. “It was coming at you like it wanted to eat you.”
Juliana only nodded, offering nothing more.
“How many of them did you see?” he asked.
Another pause.
“A lot,” she said, eventually. “A hundred, maybe more.”
A hundred?
The thought chilled him to his very core; a hundred crazed, cannibalistic killers, roaming loose in the dark streets of the city. He considered Charlie and the others: Paul the barman, Doyle… Was Doyle now one of those things? He pushed the thought away, not willing to broach it with her yet.
“Well,” he said, “I think that we are safe up here, for now.” Shuffling on his buttocks, he maneuvered until his legs were dangling over the edge and he could see down into the room below. Night had fallen completely. Thin, silver shards of light penetrated the thick blanket of shadow, hinting at a moon outside and providing a theatre for the frenzy taking place below. One of them jumped and he saw a flash of yellow skin. “But they don’t look to be going anywhere. I saw at least three. We could probably shoot them from up here, but I don’t fancy our chances in the dark. Would be like trying to shoot fish in a murky pond. Might be more sensible to conserve our ammo for when we can see.”
