“What if it isn’t?” Scott asked as he turned and walked away.
Monique’s mind whirred, overloaded with thoughts and images. She was certain, now more than ever, that they would have to move on; to escape the office somehow.
A scream brought her thoughts to a sudden halt, and as the mental ball dropped, it shattered into tiny pieces, which scattered through Monique’s mind. She was hungry, tired, and a little disoriented. Her body moved through the office before her brain had recognized the movement. Rebecca was ahead of her, staring into what used to be Danny’s office. From the opposite side of the floor, Danny and Walter also rushed to see the source of the commotion.
“I won’t become one of them,” Scott’s scream somehow found a way through the haze, burning a path into Monique’s brain.
The group came together at the same moment, but too late to stop Scott from plunging from the open office window. The windows opened inward with the hinge in the base. They didn’t normally open more than a few inches, but Scott had somehow managed to pull the entire window from its frame. The rush of winter air and the hungry drone of those below overpowered them. Monique and Danny ran to the window, an instinctive reaction rather than anything with purpose. Scott’s plummeting body hit the ground with a dull thud and his head cracked open. Blood and brain spread out beneath him like an egg dropped on the kitchen tile. The crowd descended on him in a rush, hiding him from view. The noise of their greedy champing covered Monique in goose bumps.
“We need to move out of here,” Monique whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
“I know. We’ll think of something,” Danny answered. Until then, she hadn’t noticed he was there, and upon seeing him, Monique quickly turned and strode away.
“What’s your problem?” Danny called, but Monique offered no answer.
Danny did his best to fix the window back into its frame. He stood his desk – which they had not needed for the door barricade – on end, resting against the glass.
“I think the best thing for us to do is to try going down one floor at a time,” Danny began as they sat to have their first discussion about leaving the office. “I think we should head down one level, look around and then come back here. There will certainly be something to drink down there that we can bring back. If the coast is clear, we regroup here, and then head down again.
“What if we see any of those…things?” Rebecca asked.
“We kill them,” Walter spoke up.
“We take care of them,” Danny overruled. “Let’s hope we don’t meet any more, but if we do, we should try and leave. We can trap them on the floor and then move onto the next one. Killing them is a last resort.” Danny looked at Walter, but couldn’t shake Monique’s accusing gaze. Her eyes bored holes through his chest, and threw his mind off track.
“When do we go?” Monique asked. Her eyes refused to blink while they locked onto Danny.
“You don’t. Walter and I will do it. We will check the floor, and then we all move down together. I don’t want to hear any feminist bollocks here either. We have the only two real weapons, and we’re stronger. It´s that simple.” He rose from his chair and ended their meeting before another word could be spoken.
The men readied themselves with lightning speed and were out of the door within thirty minutes of their meeting. They did not exchange goodbyes with one another.
The sun soon began to set. This was something their plan had failed to take into account. The darkness of the building would only act as a hindrance to their progress should they be delayed at all. This would mean either a midnight relocation, or a second scouting trip the next morning ahead of an afternoon move. “Fools,” Monique uttered beneath her breath.
“Do you think they will come back?” Rebecca asked as she turned off the large reception area television. The emergency broadcasts still played, although several channels had shut down completely. They tried the TV three times a day, hoping for something else.
“I don’t care. I don’t trust Danny,” Monique let it slip. It was just her and Rebecca, who was younger, and much more attractive than she was. “You need to watch out for him.”
“Why?” Rebecca turned to face Monique.
Monique explained all about the two previous evenings and how she had thought it was a zombie. She watched Rebecca’s eyes widen when she told her about her letter opener and how Danny had been right by her door that morning.
“But he was always so nice,” Rebecca began.
“He’s ambitious, and in this new world, he sees power there for the taking.” Monique was quick to point out the difference between being nice or evil as opposed to powerful.
They sat in silence, listening for the sounds of either retreat or return. Nothing was forthcoming, and after a while, they both found themselves staring out of the window, across the city. Smoke rose in several places, as invisible fires raged.
“I’m so hungry.” Rebecca steadied herself against the glass as a fresh wave of lightheadedness washed over her.
“I’m sure they will be back soon, with some supplies.” Monique placed a hand on the young girls shoulder.
“But then what? Where are we going to go? Those things are everywhere.” Rebecca shook, and Monique pulled her close to her. It was an unnatural act for her, but it felt good.
“Let’s just take it one step at a time. There are people out there, and they are fighting back. If it is the army or whatever, then we just need to get to them,” Monique soothed the young woman.
An awkward but not all together unwelcome silence fell over the floor, as the women waited for the others to return. When the door finally opened, only Walter crossed the threshold. Bruises dominated his face, and his left eye swollen shut. He walked with a limp and had the bloody letter opener tucked into his belt.
“What happened to Danny?” Rebecca asked when, after a few moments, he didn’t come through door.
“We…um…there were zombies. He got bit,” Walter answered his demeanor different to the laid-back style he had in the office. His eyes had turned cold, like those of a shark.
“How many were there?” Monique asked.
“Just the one. It got him and almost took me down too.” Walter pointed to his face, which struck Monique as strange, as from what she had seen of the creatures, hand-to-hand melees were not their style. They ripped and devoured.
Walter removed the letter opener from his belt; it was dripping bright red blood as opposed to the blackened syrup the previous zombie had ejected from its body. Walter saw Monique looking at the blade. “Danny fought back, he got away from the zombie and I killed it. But he’d been bitten. He begged me to end it before he turned. I had to do it.” Walter’s voice never faltered; his tone was flat, devoid of all emotion.
“Did you find any supplies?’ Rebecca asked, looking around for the bag the men had taken with them.
Walter shook his head and looked at the floor. “No, there was nothing like that. We found two bodies; both suicides, but that was it. The flu wiped out the floor I guess. It looked as though they were the only people working today. Good news is: I had a quick look around the stairwell, and it looks like the building is empty. It doesn’t smell too fresh, but hey, none of us do.” He flashed a smile, but it felt strange, as if the atmosphere on the floor had darkened in some way.
“When do we leave?” Monique asked, the closeness of the walls suddenly something she longed to be rid of.
“Not until morning,” Walter spoke, the same slimy smirk on his face. Moving in the dark won’t help us. We’ll stay here tonight, and then look to make a move. I figure we can stay on the ground floor a day, and then head out, up the street toward the council building.
“Then what?” Rebecca asked with a deflated tone.
“I don’t know,” Walter snapped; his temperament changing in a heartbeat.
“Come with me Rebecca,” Monique said. ”We’ll stay in my office, sleep there. Walter if you take first watch then later we can swap
and I’ll take over. With the door and window broken I don’t trust not having someone awake out here.” Monique replaced her arm around Rebecca’s shoulder and led her away.
Night fell, and while Rebecca fell into a deep sleep, Monique sat, looking at the stars. The heating in the building had stopped working, as had the power. Monique closed her eyes, but her hunger made the world spin every time she shut them for more than a few minutes. She was pleased that they would make a move once the sun had risen. The outside world seemed like a distant paradise from their caged position, and zombies or not, she longed for freedom.
Monique slipped into a doze. Before she knew it, something sharp was pressed into her throat, and a hand clamped over her mouth.
“Make a sound and I’ll slit your throat you black bitch!” Walter spat. Burning spittle peppered Monique’s face. The scream that had built in her lungs froze and she swallowed it back down.
Walter moved his hand from Monique’s mouth and slid it down her body, slipping it under her shirt. When she flinched, he pressed the tip of the knife even further into her throat. “No, no, no, love. That’s not how we play anymore. I’m in charge now. I give the orders. The world as we knew it has ended, and only the strong will rise to take power,” he sneered, as he squeezed her breast. It took everything Monique had not to fight. “Your tits feel good. Now get on your knees. I’ve got something for you.”
Tears stung Monique’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks as her mouth was filled. Walter smiled down at her, and his black shark eyes shimmered in the night like the moon on a lake.
With his height reached, Walter turned and walked away without saying a word. While Monique fell back onto her chair with tears burning the back of her throat.
She once again fell into a turbulent sleep. She was falling, and below her was a crowd of zombies; each one a clone of Walter. The more she struggled, the quicker she fell, plummeting into the outstretched arms, embraced by their hungry growls. She woke with a start, and immediately shielded her eyes. The sun had already risen in the cloudless sky, and the thick frost from the night before had started to thaw.
Monique rose, wincing at her stiff joints. She coughed to try to remove the lingering taste of her assault.
Rebecca woke not long after, and when they went to leave the office, she was surprised to find the door opened fully, without any hindrance.
“Walter,” Monique called. The name tasted foul, even worse than the gift he had given her the night before, but she didn’t want Rebecca to find out. She didn’t want anybody to find out.
No answer came. As they walked through the office, it soon became apparent that Walter had left them behind.
“Look,” Rebecca pointed at the empty soda cans that stood on the sofa. “I thought he said they hadn’t found anything,” Rebecca gasped, shocked.
“I guess he lied. It looks like he left us behind.” Monique pointed to the open door as she spoke.
“So we are alone?” Rebecca couldn’t hide the panic in her voice.
“I think so, but you know what? I think it is better that way. Nobody to slow us down,” Monique answered, as the tears once again threatened to break the surface.
Rebecca didn’t seem as convinced, and collapsed into the sofa with a despondent groan. “Why would he leave?” she asked
“Walter wasn’t who you thought he was, Rebecca. Trust me on that, and if you ask me, I think he murdered Danny yesterday.” With the words spoken, Monique felt a wave of guilt rush over her at the way she had treated her former assistant.
Rebecca didn’t say anything. She picked up each can in turn and shook it, but they were all empty. In a movement so sudden it made Monique gasp, Rebecca snatched up a can and threw it across the office, screaming as she threw. One by one in quick succession, she snatched up each can and launched it. When she was done, Rebecca turned around, her eyes red with tears. “Where do we have to go?”
“Well, I don’t know if you were copied in on all of the email, but the talk at…the end, was that it came from outside of the city. The flu started all of it right?” Rebecca nodded her silent agreement. “Well think about this floor, the first people to call in sick were those that lived furthest away. The outskirts also reported the first zombie activity, too. Remember those early news broadcasts?” Monique once again made Rebecca work a little in their conversation, for the young girl’s face had begun to assume the same distant expression that Scott had worn. Rebecca nodded again. “The day the zombies arrived there were a few live news reports sent out, before the emergency broadcast became the only show on TV. There were images of the streets on the outskirts of town, and the main residential areas – by the ring road –, which were completely over-run by the undead.”
“I don’t remember, it’s all just a blur. Do you ever think about your family?” Rebecca asked, changing the direction of the conversation. It was a conversation they had purposefully avoided and for good reason. It was a topic that could rapidly develop into an obsession.
“My family is in London. I don’t know if it has gotten there… yet,” Monique answered truthfully. “I like to think that it has been stopped.”
“But what if it started there?” Tears streaked Rebecca’s cheeks.
“It didn’t. Headquarters sent me an email saying that something had happened in this area and that we were all to stay indoors. It started here.” Monique knew that her answers were not answers, but avenues to further questions. It was the best she could do. “I’ll tell you what: If we get out of here, then we will find your family. Rebecca, you need to listen to me now. Don’t think about them…not yet. We need to focus on getting out of here. The first thing we need is food. We need to head into town, find something to eat, a place to sleep. We can make our way slowly…”
“…where?” Rebecca interrupted.
“I don’t know. There must be a military base or something around here,” Monique began. “They would have set something up within the city. If we can find that, then we can see where we need to go.”
Rebecca nodded, but said nothing. “I don’t want to go out there…with them,” she whispered in a cracked voice, after a prolonged period of silence.
“If we stay here, then we die.” Monique was frank and to the point.
“When?”
“Now,” Monique answered, her mind committed to getting out. In secret, part of her wanted to find Walter, and feed him to the dead.
The women stood and hugged each other, enjoying one final moment of peace before they walked to the door.
“We should stop on the floor below. If Walter lied about having food, maybe there are still some supplies down there.” She left the next thought unspoken. Maybe we can find out what really happened to Danny.
Between each floor were two small flights of stairs that were opposite each other, with a small square landing which served as the connection point. The wall by each landing was decorated with the floor number, the department name and the name of the respective managers. Monique paused for a second to look at her name on the board. Something had smeared it with blood. It looked as though someone had stroked it, for the smears were single tracks, and the relative width of a finger.
The door to the seventh floor was glass. It saw a lot of visitors, both corporate and public, so held a much more businesslike appearance than the eighth. Dried blood clouded the glass. The door was open. The electronics had shut off so Danny and Walter had forced it open. The odor of death seeped through the doors.
“I don’t need to look in there, let’s just keep moving,” Rebecca whispered.
“I need to check something. Wait here if you want.” Monique walked toward the door. Her head was giddy from hunger, the world around her a queasy sea as a result of the meaty stench.
Creeping closer, Monique checked the door. It was heavy, but she felt it would move if she pushed hard enough. A growl from the other side stayed her hand. Monique stifled a gasp and went to pull away, but she had a burning need within her to se
e for herself what had happened to Danny. She was sure that is was latent guilt. The gap between the doors was large enough for Monique to peer through. The moment she pusher her head between the two door she saw the problem. Danny was dead, but it had not been from a zombie bite. Walter had slit his throat. The growl had come from the zombie that had since buried its face in Danny’s stomach. It had ripped Danny's abdomen open. Half-chewed clumps of flesh and torn organs bubbled from the gash as the zombies swallowed mouthfuls of cold, jellied innards. Monique felt her gorge rise, but swallowed everything back down. She pulled her head from the gap and turned to Rebecca.
“Come on, there’s nothing there.” She controlled herself. There was no need to scare the girl any more than she already was.
They made an uneventful trip down to the third floor. Most people had been home sick on the day it started…or were already dead. Monique was painfully aware of the irony of it all. As they descended the first flight of stairs leading to the second floor, they stopped. Rebecca saw it first. A zombie lay on the steps. It wore a blood stained suit. Monique was sure that had it been a whole face it would have been familiar to her. The pair froze, but it was too late, the thing had seen them, and started trying to claw its way up the stairs. It was then that Monique noticed its legs. They were broken, the ankles too, judging by the fact that they were twisted almost one hundred and eighty degrees.
“It must have fallen…he must have fallen… before he became one of those things.” Monique stared at the creeping form. She watched as it inched its way closer to them, one step at a time. Its neck craned to face them. The lower jaw was caked with dried blood that fell away in thick flakes, revealing that what lay beneath was raw meat. The bone had been ripped away during that first feed. “He can’t hurt us. He’s got no mouth left.” Monique felt sorry for the creature.
“What do we do?” Rebecca had frozen; her back pressed firmly against the wall.
“We put him out of his misery.” Monique answered. She pulled the knife from behind her back, the one Danny had found on the first day. “Wait here,” she advised Rebecca as she walked down to meet the zombie. She crouched down and pushed away its feeble, off balance swipe at her, and then plunged the knife through the top of the dead man’s skull.
Diaries of the Damned Page 13
