by Drew Brown
“Sure thing, chief.”
“Thank you,” Juliette said.
With a nod, Andy headed back to the stairway door.
Budd and Juliette waited with nothing but her flashlight for comfort.
Having made the journey through those damned dark corridors, all I wanted to do was sit down and let my heart return to normal. But, somehow, standing in the pitch black of a huge, refrigerated storeroom, without a clue as to who, or what, was around, wasn’t helping any.
Can’t think why…
27
It took Budd a couple of minutes to find the candles in the duffel bag, but once they were lit he positioned them in a loose semicircle, one candle on either side of the elevator door and four others placed on the racks situated around it.
After he was done, he looked at the flickering lights. Beyond them, he could see very little aside from the odd patch of darker shadow. He switched off the two-way radio, ceasing the otherwise endless crackle of white noise, and then he and Juliette listened for any sound that was out of place in the giant storeroom.
Silence.
Budd switched on the radio again. He held down the button to transmit. “Andy, how you doing?”
There were several seconds of static before Andy’s voice, made tinny by the small speakers, rang out. “We’ve reached t’lift. Sam’s gone up to get t’others.”
“See you soon,” Budd said. He looked at Juliette, who was using her flashlight to illuminate the elevator’s control panel.
“Maybe there is a light inside,” she said, her finger hovering next to the lift’s call button.
“There probably is, but what if there’s also one of those things?”
Juliette gestured to the axe in Budd’s hand. “Please, Monsieur Ashby, I do not like being in the dark.”
Neither did I…
Budd sighed and then swung the axe down from his shoulder and took up a two-handed grip on the shaft. “Push it.”
Juliette did.
A long way above them, reverberating down the towering elevator shaft, they heard a series of clanks and bumps as the motor kicked into life. The droning continued as the lift came down. The journey only took a couple of minutes, but to Budd it felt much longer.
His hands sweated around the axe’s shaft.
The motor stopped as the elevator reached their level. A green light above the door showed it was ready. The door was not automatic, but had a handle and latch on the right-hand side. Before Budd tried it, he knocked the butt of the axe against the concertina door. The noise was loud in the quiet storeroom. He stepped back, expecting something to return the blow or start clawing at the door.
The thick canvas remained still.
“Be careful,” Juliette whispered as Budd reached for the handle. He flipped up the latch with his thumb and then slid the door along its rails. He was greeted by more darkness. Twelve inches inside was another door, which was the same design as the first and concealed the actual elevator car. The outer door was only to stop people from stumbling into the shaft. With a deep breath, he took hold of the second handle, disengaged the latch and thrust it open.
The light inside exploded outwards, which hurt his eyes and obscured his vision. Instantly, he stepped away from the open space and raised the axe high above his head.
The blade hung there, ready, waiting, getting heavier. Budd lowered the weapon and glanced over his shoulder. “Nothing to worry ’bout, sweetheart,” he said.
Juliette smiled back at him. “Good.”
Budd pushed the two doors fully open, allowing the light from the neon strips on the freight-elevator’s ceiling to fill the space around them. He stepped into the car and took off his rucksack, and then sat down with his back against the rear wall. He rested the axe across his legs and looked out into the black storeroom.
Juliette sat down beside him and took hold of his right hand. “I feel much better now, thank you, Monsieur Ashby.”
“I still feel like I’m having a nightmare,” Budd said, smiling crookedly. “It’s just well-lit now.”
The sound of hinges squeaking came from the darkness. There was a long pause before a door clattered closed against its frame. Budd exchanged a worried look with Juliette and then depressed the button to speak into the two-way radio. “Is that you, boss?”
The static ceased. “Yeah, I see you’ve got t’lift down.”
Budd climbed to his feet and peeked out into the room, but was unable to see much beyond the semicircle of candles. After a while, the sound of feet on the linoleum floor could be heard above the hum of the radio, and then a shadow appeared, moving forward and entering the light. Sam smiled as he emerged. The doctor, his wife, Father McGee and the male honeymooner followed him into the candlelight.
“We’re heading straight back,” Sam said. “Those zombies in the corridor are getting totally upset. We’ve decided to do just one last big group.”
“Good luck,” Juliette said.
“We’ll be fine, babe,” Sam assured her with a smile.
Budd even thought he saw a wink, although it was hard to tell in the uncertain candlelight. The young Californian walked away, heading back to the staircase door with his axe resting on his shoulder. Only when Sam disappeared into to the impenetrable gloom did Budd finally relax the scowl he’d cast the younger man.
The sight made Juliette smile.
“Babe?” I was definitely the only one around here gonna be saying stuff like that to my little French pop star. Sam could find his own one…
Budd and Juliette settled back to sitting on the floor of the elevator car, while the new arrivals milled around in silence, their eyes looking out into the murky shadows of the surrounding room. Eventually, Father McGee gestured towards the cart and its bags. “I don’t suppose there’re any tea bags?” he said. As he spoke, he unscrewed the lid of his silver flask and made a show of pouring it over the floor. Nothing remained to spill out. “I’m empty.”
“I do not think so, Father,” Juliette answered, “but there will be some upstairs, I am sure.”
“Bless you, my child, and may the Lord always be with you.”
“He’s not today,” Budd said. His comment earned frowns from both Juliette and the priest.
“He is especially with us in our hour of need, son.”
“I don’t mean to take a leak on your igloo, but we can’t get much needier than we are right now. And I don’t see any sword-swinging angels or lightning bolts coming from the sky to save us.”
“This is all His work,” Father McGee said kindly.
Juliette dug her elbow into Budd’s ribs. “Stop being a jerk.”
Budd looked her in the eye and then adjusted the rim of his Stetson. There was a faint smile on his lips. Slowly, his left eyebrow hooked upwards. He had no intention of letting the matter lie.
Okay, I’ll admit it.
Priests make me antsy.
All that moral fiber, reveling in the fact that the Lord works in mysterious ways—which, let’s face it, simply means the guy enjoys screwing us over—makes me irritable. And right then, I was in the mood to bicker. He was just an easy target…
“What was that?” the male honeymooner said. He was right at the rim of the candlelight, staring out into the darkness.
Budd switched off the radio set and stood up. In the quiet that followed, the group listened to the nothingness that filled the room.
“I can’t hear anything, buddy.”
“Neither can I,” the doctor said.
“I definitely heard something,” the male honeymooner reiterated. To strengthen his words he turned and looked back at the others. “I know I heard something. Those things are in here.”
Budd looked at the young man and found that his eyes shimmered in the soft light. His clothes were stained with blood, and dried globs of it marked his face and hands, one of which trembled at his side.
The guy was one sandwich short of a picnic. Maybe two…
“Come on, James,�
� the doctor’s wife said. “Come and stand with us. We’ll be safe.”
“We’ll never be safe,” James said in a raised, agitated voice. As if fate wished to prove him right, the sound of a jar smashing on the floor burst out from the darkness.
Budd switched the radio on and depressed the transmitter button. “Where’re you, boss?”
There was the usual pause, but the seconds dragged.
“Sam’s just gone up again.”
“Be quick. We’ve got company.”
Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, was unlikely to be a good thing…
28
Budd watched as Juliette picked up the flashlight and switched it back on. She shined the beam into the darkness, sweeping it from side to side, but the tall racks and long shelves splintered the light and cast shadows across the storeroom.
None of the group spotted anything approaching.
Nevertheless, they all heard another loud crash. The ensuing rumble of metal rolling on the linoleum floor lasted many seconds and gave Juliette ample time to direct the light to the correct location.
Still, Budd found it hard to say if he could see anything.
At the back of the group, the doctor spoke up. “Get back into the elevator, Caroline.”
Without speaking, his wife did as she’d been told.
Budd looked at Juliette, gave her a nervous smile, and then took the flashlight from her hand and gave it to James, the honeymooner. “You too, sweetheart.”
“I want to stay with you.”
“Back you go.”
Juliette walked backwards into the elevator, her eyes still roaming.
Budd remained where he was, the axe held taut in his hands and his attention turning to wherever James chose to shine the light beam. He heard the doctor and the priest shuffle up to his rear.
He swallowed hard.
I didn’t like being the group leader.
I didn’t want to be the one throwing the welcome party for whatever wandered out of the dark…
“Over there,” James said, pointing.
Looking to where the young man had indicated, Budd saw the outline of two figures heading towards them. They were close together, perhaps with one arm around each other, but Budd was sure that their gait was different to the things he’d seen in the hotel’s reception. Their small steps were wary and hesitant, but not stiff and uneven.
Budd indicated for James to lower the torch, and then swung his axe up to rest on his shoulder. “The two of you, over there,” he said, waving with one arm. “Say somethin’ if you, you know, didn’t die at some point today.”
There was no immediate answer, but Budd thought he heard hushed voices above the static of the two-way radio. Eventually a male voice called back, “How do we know that you’re not one of those psychos, mon?”
The voice was distinctly Caribbean, but from precisely which island Budd had no idea. “Brother, how many have you seen using axes and flashlights?”
Without another word being spoken, the two figures came out of the shadows and stepped through the candle line.
One was a tall, broad, black male, dressed in a black suit and shirt with a white tie. He had curly black hair that was cropped short to his head. Clasped to his side was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, and of what Budd guessed was Chinese descent. She was wearing knee-high black leather boots, a short cream skirt and a black blouse. The lacy top, however, had been ripped open and was hanging on either side of her chest. There was a large bandage across her midriff. Above the dressing, but visible below the line of her black bra, were deep cuts and scratches. She looked pale and weak.
The doctor stepped towards the injured woman, removing his jacket and rolling it into a makeshift pillow. “Please, lay her down,” he said.
The black-suited newcomer did what he was told, but he kept his head up and his eyes vigilant as he lowered her to the floor.
“Don’t worry,” Budd said. “He’s a doctor. What happened to you?”
“We were attacked; two guys jumped us. They were like animals. They pinned De down and were fucking biting and scratching her. I think I killed them. Man, what the fuck’s going on?”
“The name’s Budd, brother, and I haven’t a clue.”
“Call me Carl. Now, De’ll be fine, right?”
Budd peered in closer to the young Chinese woman; James had illuminated her wounds with his torch, giving the doctor, who had peeled back the bandages, a much better view of her injuries. The medical man pulled his spectacles down his nose and scratched at his eyeball. “They’re only superficial, nothing that can cause long-term damage, although, with bites, a course of antibiotics would be advisable. Nevertheless, you need to rest, young lady.”
De nodded and sat up, letting a smile cross her lips. The doctor’s wife crouched beside her and Juliette handed her a bottle of water from the cart.
While the others looked on over the doctor as he renewed his examination of the wounds, Budd returned to the elevator car. In his hand, the two-way radio crackled with something more than static. It happened a second time. He thumbed the transmitter button. “Boss, no panic over here, just a couple more survivors. Everything okay with you?”
There was no reply, simply the fuzz of white noise.
“Speak to me, chief.”
The static cut off in an instant: the other radio was transmitting, but no words came over the airwaves.
Instead, there were screams, cries of terror, and finally Andy’s voice, shouting something unintelligible.
The transmission ended and the white noise returned.
Budd looked up from the radio set, unaware that he had been staring at it, willing a proper message to come. The others were looking at him, fear etched on their faces.
I don’t mind telling you—there was fear on mine, too…
29
James shined the torch towards the distant doorway; there was no sign of Andy’s group. “Right,” the young man said, “we have to help.”
Budd cursed the fact that he was still holding the axe; the others were again looking at him to lead the way. He clipped the two-way radio onto his belt. “We’ll go and check this out, but I want the rest of you in the elevator in case things don’t go well.”
There were mumbles of acknowledgement from around the group, except for the doctor, who was torn between his professional duty to his current patient and his desire to offer help to what seemed a more dangerous exercise. As if sensing the dilemma within the doctor, Carl straightened up to his full height, several inches above Budd, and clenched his fists. “I’d like to help,” he said.
“Sure thing, brother,” Budd replied. He rummaged through one of the bags on the cart and then handed Carl a flashlight. “Take this.”
“Thanks.”
As Budd turned to leave, flanked by James and Carl, he locked eyes with Juliette and offered her a smile. She returned it and then hurried on, keen to help the doctor move his patient into the lift. Budd let his eyes linger on her as long as he could, until his movement put her out of view. He took the radio from his belt and pressed the button. “Boss, come in, do you hear us?”
Static was still the only reply. Budd reattached the radio and then made ready his grip on the axe’s shaft.
“Is this guy on his own?” Carl asked as they neared the door to the staircase.
“Nah, I think there’ll be six of them.”
“How far away are they?”
“Pretty close. At least, they should be.”
They arrived at the staircase doorway. Budd reached for the handle. Behind him, Carl used his light to check that nothing had followed them. In the distance, sliced by the shelves and racks that stood in between, the elevator made a distant glow. Budd pulled open the door, revealing the light from the staircase. He stepped back and raised his axe.
The landing was empty.
Budd hurried inside, heading for the set of steps that would take them up to the next half-landing. James kept alongside
him and Carl followed a short way behind. The two men switched off their flashlights.
Shouts came from above.
Budd stopped and Carl bumped into him. The contact drove Budd on. He took the steps one at a time and reached the half-landing much later than he could have done. The cries from above were louder now, getting nearer. Around the corner, on the landing for the floor above, he heard the door open and a rush of feet come in.
Chris came bounding down the stairs.
“What’s happening?” James asked.
Chris paused for long enough to take the flashlight from the young man’s grip. “Those things are all over the fucking place. We need to get to the restaurant.”
“What ’bout the others?” Budd asked, but his breath was wasted because Chris was already running headlong down the staircase again, escaping as quickly as he could.
I didn’t like the guy, but I—sure as Hell is full of politicians—liked his idea…
“We have to help them,” James said, and launched himself up the second flight of stairs and across the landing. He pushed open the door and plunged into the darkness.
Budd looked at Carl, who nodded upwards and gave a slight smile. “Slow and steady, yeah?”
“You got that right, brother.”
More shouts came from the corridor.
“Let’s just wait here a bit, see what happens,” Budd said, stopping his advance. He couldn’t tell from Carl’s expression whether the bigger man was happy to come to a halt, or disgusted by his lack of bravery.
Not that it mattered to me…
