When There's No More Room in Hell 2

by Luke Duffy

  "I think it's empty," he said turning back to Helen.

  The noise from the dead in the stairwell grew in intensity. They were close. Helen gently closed the door to the apartment and began to shove the bolts across in the top and bottom, sealing them inside. She did it as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert their pursuers to the apartment in which they were hiding.

  Gingerly, they both stepped forward together. Their eyes flitted from one shadow to the next, trying desperately to penetrate the inky blackness that could hold any number of terrors awaiting them.

  The hallway opened up to a large expanse. At the far end, and running the entire width of the apartment, floor to ceiling windows stared out over the city. The moonlight flooded in through the huge glass panes and bathed the room in a pale blue light. It was bright enough for Steve and Helen to be able to see and identify objects inside the room without having to scrutinise or look too closely.

  "Now this is luxury, wouldn’t you say?" Steve grinned at Helen.

  The room was filled with the finest furniture and fittings that money could afford. Ornaments and paintings that looked as though they belonged in a gallery were placed on display on expensive looking contemporary tables or hung from the walls. A television, the largest that Steve had ever seen, sat fitted in its alcove on the far wall, a huge and comfortable looking leather couch sprawled in front of it.

  To the right was the kitchen, sleek and elegant, and filled with the most modern of appliances and gadgets; Steve imagined some of the finest chefs in the world being more than happy to cook a meal there.

  Helen began to walk through the room, craning her neck and checking every corner for anything that could be lying in wait for them.

  Steve was in awe and rooted to the spot. The penthouse apartment was the sort of home he had always dreamed of and it was clear to him that a rich man had lived there, not a woman. In his eyes, it had that man signature to it. Although the owner had obviously wanted to show off his wealth and live in comfort there was nothing that was too overly sentimental about the place. To a degree, it was minimalistic without the usual clutter you would find from a woman's touch. There were no vases of wilting flowers or rows upon rows of family photos along the large sprawling fireplace, and spying the drinks cabinet and home entertainment system, including numerous games consoles, confirmed it for him. It was a real man's hang out.

  "Are you going to stand there all night with a hard on, or are you going to help me check this place and barricade that door?" Helen asked in a reprimanding tone.

  Steve snapped out of his wonderment and turned to her. "Sorry," he said. "This is really something, though, don’t you think?"

  Helen growled. "It won't be if those stinking corpses come barging through the door because you were too busy drooling over your new home."

  Together, they searched each room. It was bigger than they had first thought.

  "Christ, there's more rooms here than the whole building put together," Steve whispered in awe as they approached the last door. "No wonder there's only a couple of them on the top floor."

  Helen ignored him. He was starting to get on her nerves with his excitement over an expensive and luxurious penthouse that had no place or use in the new world. She reached down for the handle and twisted, pushing the door open.

  A set of steps led upwards and to where she presumed was the roof. They edged their way forward and climbed the short staircase. The door at the top was unlocked and led out onto a rooftop patio, complete with barbeque, garden furniture and a chest freezer. They quickly scanned the open roof around them, ensuring that they were alone, and then retreated back inside the apartment.

  Steve began hauling the large, heavy drink cabinet into the hallway and placed it up against the front door. Next, they began dragging a long table to place behind the cabinet and wedged it so that it was pressing against the wall at the end of the hallway, rendering it impossible for the door to be forced open.

  Satisfied that they were as safe and secure as they were going to be, they both set to searching the apartment a second time for anything that could be of use. Food and water were at the top of their list and they had to make do with soft drinks and stale biscuits. Neither of them had eaten all day and they wolfed down the meagre meal as though it would be their last.

  As the morning sun crept into view over the tall buildings of the city, its bright rays poured in through the large bay windows, piercing through the thin skin of Steve's eyelids and waking him with a start.

  Realising what the light was, he sat upright rubbing his face, the leather of the sofa creaking below him.

  Helen was already up. She stood by the entrance to the hallway, staring towards the front door of the apartment. Steve's mind was in a fog and as the mist slowly lifted, his senses began to retune themselves to their surroundings. He became aware of a steady thumping noise, like a bass drum being beaten in the distance. He looked around confused; then he remembered.

  He jumped up from the couch and sprinted across to join Helen at the barricade. He stared at the door. It shook in its frame with each bang as the dead hammered away at it from the other side.

  "You think they’ll get in?" Helen asked without looking at him.

  "I doubt it. That door is too thick and it will be reinforced with steel inside it, and the hinges, too. They won't be able to get enough of them between the banister and the door to be able to force their way in, I shouldn’t imagine."

  He stepped forward and began to climb over the table and cabinet they had wedged against the door, carefully placing each foot and hand so as not to make a noise or hurt his self. He reached the door and looked back at Helen as she stood watching him. He gently lifted the cover to the peephole and pressed his eye against the lens. The distorted image that he saw on the other side was enough to make his blood freeze in his veins.

  The hallway was packed, shoulder to shoulder, with hundreds of the dead. They all struggled to fight their way to the door of the apartment, growling and snarling at one another as they pushed and shoved their way through the crowd.

  Steve climbed back over the barricade and jumped down at the side of Helen.

  "We aren't going to be getting out that way. It's wall to wall with them out there," he said looking back at the door.

  "The roof then," Helen replied. "It’s the only option."

  Steve nodded at her as he looked in her eyes. He was impressed with her calmness and composure. His nerves were screaming at him from inside, but he was determined not to show it.

  On the rooftop, they had a clear view of the city and the streets below. The area around the base of the building was packed with the dead. It was impossible to make out individuals due to the altitude they were at and the volume of reanimated bodies that crowded the street.

  "I think every pus brain in the city has come looking for us," Steve remarked as he stepped away from the edge.

  "The good news is," he said with a slight smile, "I know where we are now. If my bearings are correct, then I would say that the main filter road that links the city to the ring road is about four streets in that direction." He pointed off towards the west.

  "How will we get there?"

  Steve looked at her and grinned. "Easy, we go across the rooftops."

  For the better part of the day, Steve and Helen negotiated the roofs of the buildings that lined the street. They used the fire escape ladders to descend, stealthily creeping across at ground level in the alleyways that ran between the buildings, then scaling the steps that led up the sides of adjacent apartment and office blocks. They played a deadly game of cat and mouse with the hordes of dead that were never more than a few metres away.

  They poured with sweat due to the effort and their nerves, which were beyond breaking point. They reached the far end of the street and paused for breath before they began their descent to the ground again.

  "They're more spread out at this end," Helen noted as she looked down over the lip of the roof.
>
  "What do you reckon?" Steve asked as he raised himself upright and joined her at the edge. He glanced down to the road below and watched the dark swaying figures that slowly edged their way to join the mass crowd at the far end.

  "It will take forever going from rooftop to rooftop, Steve." She looked up at him. "Two or three streets to the slipway, would you say?"

  He nodded, dreading the suggestion that he knew she was about to put to him. "Yeah, about that, I think."

  Helen paused a moment in thought as she eyed the ground far below them. She then turned to him, a look of determination on her face.

  "I say we make a run for it then. Down through there."

  She pointed at an alleyway that ran between the buildings on the other side of the street. It looked as though it headed in the direction that they wanted to go.

  Steve sighed, shaking his head. "Fucking hell," he said. "Come on then, let's do it if we're going to do it."

  They made their way down the fire escape stairs of the final building in the street. At the bottom, they began to creep their way towards the corner that looked out on the road.

  Dozens of corpses meandered their way towards the apartment block where they had stayed the previous night. They shuffled along, oblivious to the two living human beings that hid in the shadows just mere feet from where they were.

  Helen was right, they were more spread out and Steve believed that they would be able to sprint through them and away along the alley before most of them had even realised that they were there.

  Steve looked at Helen, and for a moment they stared into each other's eyes.

  "Okay then, darling. This was your idea and there's no backing out now."

  Helen nodded. "You ready? On three," she whispered.

  She took a series of deep breaths, building up the oxygen levels in her lungs to feed her muscles for the coming sprint. She looked back at Steve.

  "Okay, okay one, two…three."

  They jumped to their feet and ran.

  28

  Ten miles short of where they wanted to be, the car finally gave up its battle. The engine cut out and regardless of how hard Stu tried, it failed to spring back to life.

  "That’s it, Marcus, we're dead in the water."

  Marcus eyed their surroundings and shrugged. "Well, looks like we'll have to tab," he said using the army term for an extremely fast paced walk whilst carrying full kit.

  "We'll have to get a move on, though, because I don’t fancy spending a night under the stars. Camping isn't what it used to be."

  The four remaining members of Marcus' team climbed out of the broken down vehicle and began adjusting their equipment for the hard walk ahead.

  "Do you know how to get there?" Stu asked as he checked that all of the pouches on his assault vest were securely fastened.

  "I grew up here, Stu. Of course I know," Marcus replied then turned to Jim. "You okay with this, old man? We Brits tend to move quicker than you guys and there's no singing while we do it."

  "Fuck you, boss," Jim retorted with a grin. "I'll manage."

  Marcus pulled out the map and began to study it. Now and then he would look up and glance about at the country around him, checking that the features matched up with what he was looking at on the piece of paper in his hands. After a short while, he folded it away and stuffed it in his inside pocket, satisfied that his bearings were correct.

  They were still in the country, surrounded on all sides by low hills and fields. In the distance, they could see the hazy blue silhouette of the city. Marcus knew that they would need to skirt around in a wide arc to the west in order to avoid the heavily populated areas, adding to their journey. He looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to dip towards the horizon, casting its orange and pink rays through the atmosphere. He checked his watch.

  "Okay, it's roughly seventeen kilometres to the Safari Park and about three hours of daylight left, shouldn’t be a problem."

  Everyone began taking large gulps from their water supplies, ensuring that their bodies were hydrated enough for the hard slog ahead. No one could afford to become a burden to the others due to dehydration.

  Marcus led the way.

  They took off at a quick pace and thrust their way along the narrow road. They were shielded on both sides by high hedgerows and they made a point of keeping to the centre of the road as much as possible. They moved rapidly, but every member of the team kept their vigilance, scanning every bush or dip in the hedge for possible threats.

  Within just a few kilometres, everyone was soaked in sweat. It ran from their heads and down their faces, stinging their eyes. More sweat poured down their backs, causing their clothing to become saturated as their close-fitting assault vests did little to allow for any airflow between their skin and the material of their shirts.

  Their legs burned, screaming at them as the lactic acid built up in the muscles. Their lungs gulped in each breath as though it was their last as their bodies fought hard to keep them moving at the fast pace that Marcus had set.

  Jim was finding it a struggle. It had been a long time since his military days and running around, carrying full kit, was not the sort of thing he was used to anymore. When Marcus raised his hand from up ahead, signalling for them to halt as they approached a junction, Jim was silently happy to give his body the few minutes’ rest that it so desperately needed. He stopped and leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs, feeling the pain in his legs and back begin to subside.

  They closed up and crouched at the side of the road, eyeing the junction and listening for any sign of the dead. The only noise they could hear was the whistles and tweets of the birds that lived in the hedgerows and fluttered overhead.

  Marcus stepped forward and glanced along the road to his left and right. There was no sign of the creatures that had ravaged the world. There was no sign of anything, not even broken down vehicles. It was peaceful and he could have been forgiven for regarding the scene as being pleasant. The thought of the millions of dead that must be crowding the city was never far from his mind though.

  They moved off again, the tempo just as swift as when they had started. Marcus could feel the heels of his feet starting to rub. He knew that blisters would form, but he cherished the idea that within a couple of hours he would be wrapped up safe, his feet immersed in a bowl of cold water with his wife and children sitting beside him. It was those thoughts that spurred him on. He refused to slacken the pace.

  At another junction, they paused again. The city was off to their right. They could see the sprawling suburbs in the low ground stretching off in the distance and then blending with the tall buildings of the metropolis. Marcus recognised many of the landmarks as he looked at the skyline through his binoculars. Although he knew that the city was dead, and things were very different now, it warmed his heart to see the familiar sites and know that they were so close to their final destination.

  "You see that?" Marcus said, pointing to the signpost on the far side of the road.

  A jumble of plaques pointed them in all directions towards numbered roads and even the city centre. Another sign below, brown in colour, pointed them towards the Safari Park.

  "We're almost there, boys." He looked back with a grin at the others.

  The strain showed on their faces, but Marcus could also see the relief, knowing that their long and hard journey that had brought them all the way from Iraq was almost over.

  Marcus stood and groaned. He arched his back and shrugged his shoulders to settle his equipment.

  "The road straight ahead will link on to the ring road, about a mile further on." He pointed in the distance with the muzzle of his rifle. "We follow that for another mile or so, and then head northwest."

  "You think we will get there before dark?" Hussein asked.

  Marcus looked at each of them. "Well, that’s where the problem lies. The ring road could be a drama. We don’t know what it will be like, but short of traipsing cross-country, through the fields, we've not mu
ch choice."

  "Fuck sake," Stu grumbled. "I'm already breathing through my arse as it is. I don’t fancy us having to run from those fucking things."

  They pushed on. It was not long before they came to the slipway that led them onto the ring road. More buildings, houses and shops , had begun to spring up around them as they drew nearer to the city and the signs of chaos and the dead littered the streets.

  The country lane had opened out to a wide double width road as it began to enter the suburbs. They saw the carnage that the dead had left in their wake as they multiplied and seized control of the cities. Cars and personal belongings lay scattered all along the ring road. Puddles of dried and rotting blood were everywhere, mixed in with the skeletal remains of animals and people alike. Flocks of birds and swarms of insects circled the skies above as they kept an eye on the ground below, waiting for the four men to pass before they could resume feeding on the morsels that the dead had left behind.

  Marcus slowed the pace slightly. There were far too many obstructions and blind spots for them to continue to race along safely. They had to scan their eyes along the ground, between the vehicles and into the distance continually. They moved silently, every man listening intently for any indication that they had been seen.

  Jim watched over the barrier wall of the ring road as it rose up to an overpass. Far below, he had a bird's eye view of the destruction that had befallen human civilisation. Every building was in ruins. Their doors smashed inwards, the remains of inadequate barricades discarded to the side. Nearly every window that he saw was shattered.

  Upturned cars and trucks littered the street. Newspapers and other waste drifted through the streets on the currents of air that flowed between the houses and buildings, while burnt out vehicles sat in silence as monuments to the anarchy that had reigned in the dying days of humanity's dominance over the planet.

  Jim also saw the bodies, hundreds of them. Lying in the streets and left to rot, they slowly wasted away and began their long journey towards becoming dust. It was a pitiful and terrifying sight.