by Birch, S. C.
Jack reeled back in his chair, “Yeah, I’m totally about to get knocked out and need rescued by a sixty-year-old called Joel.”
“What?” Daniel asked.
Jack shook his head, “Game reference, mate.”
“And a super old one at that!” Emily said.
“Brookers!” Owen said, “Enough. Stop talking.”
“I have been…asked…to pass along a message to you all. Starting three pm today curfews will be enforced.” said Just As Scared As They Were Lucy, “Yesterday we lost more people than we have been able to count for. The curfew is for your own safety.”
Then the screen went black.
“Right,” Jack said and stood up from the floor, “I’m off then.”
Emily rolled her eyes, “How?”
“Err,” said Jack as he walked around the room looking for an escape, “not sure yet. But I’m not staying here and letting them kill me in the process of making a fucking vaccine that won’t work in the first place.” He walked up to the only visible exit and pressed his face against the peephole.
Owen heaved himself off the sofa and sat back down at his lookout. And again, he watched the world outside. It was the cruellest of ironies, he thought. For the last few days it had been nice. Usually it rained and as the old phrase goes, you only get one week of summer in Britain. Clearly this was that one week. Owen couldn’t bring himself to call it Great Britain or the United Kingdom anymore because it was neither Great nor United. Now it was Britain: The Decrepit Rock. Down below, Owen watched as people were shoved into the nearest buildings. And again, he watched as soldiers atop the wall fired their guns into the seemingly empty streets. But they used more bullets and fired for longer. And it was exactly then, at thirty-two minutes past twelve that Owen witnessed a soldier shoot inside the wall. Owen wasn’t sure whether he rather it was a person who had been shot, or a zombie. But either way, someone or something had just been slain.
“Guys?” Owen asked the window.
Lucy sat down beside him, “What is it?”
“Be ready for anything.” said Owen.
“That was both enigmatic and heroic. Mind telling us why?” asked Cameron as he walked towards the glass.
“I’m getting really tired of your fucking sass.” said Owen, glaring at Cameron’s reflection in the window, “A soldier just shot someone.”
“Can’t actually say I’m surprised.” said Lucy.
“Sorry. I mean this side of that barrier.” Owen stared hard out the window and again he saw bright bursts of light erupting from beside a soldier. Owen slammed one hand on the glass and pointed with the other, “Did you see that?”
“Oh shit!” said Cameron, “You think it was a person or zombie?”
And again, in a different location, rapid bursts of light this side of the wall.
“Oh God no.” whispered Lucy.
Emily stomped her clunky boots towards them all, “The fuck’s happening here?”
“They’re, eh, shooting things down there. But on our side of safety.” replied Cameron.
Owen sprang up, collected his faithful bat and slid it into his loose belt. Then he scooped up the rucksack with their ammunition and shoved it into Emily’s arms.
Emily stumbled back with the force, “The hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“You wear it!” Owen barked and ripped open the gym bag filled with their proper weapons, taking a mental inventory.
“But. Why?” asked a confused Emily still clutching at the bag.
“Mate,” said Jack waking away from the only exit, “what’re you doing?”
“Right.” said Owen. He picked up his butterfly knife from the coffee table, “If they are shooting people this side of supposed safety then either they’ve gone fucking Nazi on us, or zombies’re down there. Em’s going to wear that bag at all times because it makes more sense than anyone else holding it.” Owen slid the knife into his boot then scanned the room like a cornered animal.
“Owen? You’re scaring me.” Lucy said.
“Well,” said he, “I’m sorry. But I absolutely refuse to be caught in whatever shit storm of a nightmare is coming our way.”
Owen got himself as prepared as he could for what he thought was inevitable and sat back down at his window while everyone else just watched. And the Fight or Flight part of Owen’s rationale went haywire as he thought through every possible scenario and how they would get out of it. It clawed away at his mind. Devouring it. Destroying it. Owen watched. More gunfire. Both outside and inside the wall.
***
The time was twenty-two minutes to six. Which meant Andrew, the guns, and camera would be here soon. Everyone still looked about the same as they had; armour clad but mostly defenceless.
“Are you all really that fucking inept?” Owen asked.
“Are you really that big a fucking dick?” spat Emily.
Owen roared in rage and slammed his fist into the glass window. He felt the force reverberate back up his arm and double his rage, “Those fucking guys are going to be here in ten minutes. The shooting out there is worse. And you’re all sitting around waiting for, what? Afternoon tea and a fucking gold star?”
“Owen,” Cameron said, “we’re all in the exact same fucking cage as you. But how do you think they’ll react to seeing us kitted out to the fucking nines?”
Owen stood up. He lurched towards Cameron who in turn, stood up to meet him.
“Isn’t it a better fucking option than just sitting around doing nothing?” Owen yelled out.
Jack stood up and inched towards them.
“No, our best option right now is to do whatever the fuck they want!” Cameron said.
Owen laughed. “Are you for real?”
Cameron leaned towards Owen, “Yeah. Yeah, I really am. You’re the only one they need alive! Not us! They’re just waiting for the chance to be done with us. And I swear right now, I’m not letting you get us killed."
Owen glared in rage before slamming his hands into Cameron’s shoulders and throwing him back.
Cameron stumbled, screamed in fury and swung a hard punch, smacking Owen’s mouth. His lip split and blood slipped out as he hurtled towards the ground.
“Stop it!” Emily shrieked and threw herself up from her seat, “Just fucking stop!” Emily brought her hands to her face and ran into the bathroom, and cried. They all heard her little, fear fuelled sobs from behind the shut door.
Cameron shot Owen a look of nothing but contempt, “You’ll get us killed acting like this.” Cameron left to join Emily.
Owen, now somewhat upright again, wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand.
“He’s right.” said Lucy who was sitting on the sofa with her arms wrapped around her shins, “You are the only person they need.” she pulled her head away from her knees and looked at Owen, “You just about had to beg for us to be in here with you.”
“Fuck.” said Jack. He rounded the sofa and sat back down, holding Grace’s hand.
The exit door flew open and in barged Andrew, two guns, the Camera, and three technicians. Owen stood in his spot and watched them close in.
Andrew stalked around in the room. His face twitching. He looked almost feral. “Where’s the other two?”
The bathroom door was pushed open as a soldier said, “Found them.”
Andrew doubled back, grabbed Emily and Cameron and launched them both to the floor.
Jack went to fly forwards, but Grace clung to his hand and stopped him.
As Emily and Cameron started to lift themselves off the floor Emily yelped and was dragged back by her hair.
Cameron scrambled forwards but met the barrel of a rifle.
“You.” said Andrew. He pointed at Daniel, “Here.”
Daniel left his seat and walked towards Andrew. The second he reached him, Andrew swung the butt of his gun across Daniel’s face and knocked him to the ground.
“This is how it goes. You four.” Andrew said with his gun pressing i
nto the back of Daniel’s skull, “Are going to stay right there. You move and they die.”
Nobody moved.
“Might seem a bit much, but that’s just the fucking way it goes.” Andrew continued while the technicians behind worked quickly.
Emily groaned as she sat in a heap on the ground, her hair wrapped around a fist and her back curved up to meet it. The soldier behind her faced his gun to Cameron. It swayed in his hand. The soldier was panting.
The other soldier had his pointed at Owen.
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Owen,” said Andrew, though his breathing was laboured, ragged, “things out there aren’t great. So what you’re going to do is tell everyone that some people were rioting and they attacked both soldiers and civilians. No one has been hurt. Everything is top fucking notch. Got it?”
Owen glared, “Got it.”
“Good.” said Andrew, “Let’s get this fucking show on the road, then. Don’t fuck this up, Owen.”
Owen nodded.
The red light lit up on the camera.
“Err. Hi.” then Owen drew a blank. He looked at the guns, at the bleeding face of Daniel, at the back of Cameron’s shaking head, at the grunting Emily. But Owen noticed something. Emily had started slipping her hand up her thigh and towards her rear. “You, err, might have heard some shooting and that today. Well, just to let you all know, it was nothing to…worry about.” Owen looked to his side. Jack was grinding his teeth and trembling as he shifted his gaze from Emily to Andrew, “From up here,” Owen said, darting his head back to the camera, “I saw what happened. There was a riot. Some people, they attacked the soldiers and normal people. Nobody was killed, though. It was all rubber bullets -”
Daniel flipped open the knife in his hand. He spun round then drove the knife into Andrew’s thigh and dragged him to the ground.
As Andrew yelled out and blood squirted from his leg the whole room surged into life. The two soldiers turned to follow the screaming. Cameron shot forwards and pushed the gun at his face, aiming it at the other soldier. He grabbed the trigger and squeezed. At the same time Emily whipped out the machete she had stashed in her belt and sliced the arm attached to her hair. Cameron spun the gun, dislodging it from its owners grasp and used it to kill him.
Lucy and Grace screamed and balled themselves up.
Owen flew for Andrew.
But Jack got there first. He had lunged over the coffee table and ran to him. He took the gun and squeezed the trigger.
Andrew stopped moaning then.
Owen looked at the destruction for only moments. Emily, Cameron, and Daniel were saturated in blood – Owen noticed that straight away. The technicians were all cowering under the bullet fire and the three corpses had painted the walls and carpet a deep red. Owen ran to the camera and slammed his hands on the sides, gripping it close.
“Leave! Everybody, leave right now! It’s not safe here!” he barked into the black lens.
Jack stood over Andrew and glared. He stared at the lifeless body.
Daniel looked at what he had caused. He screwed his face up, then marched to the bag with weapons and slung it over his shoulder.
Owen stood and watched. He didn’t have a fucking clue what to do.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Cameron ran with the gun and to the door. He swung it open and sprayed bullets up and down the corridors, killing soldiers.
“We’re good!” he said.
Daniel unwrapped a gun from one of the corpses, marched out the room, and kicked in the door beside them. When he reappeared in room Fourteen Zero Four he had brought along a crying Lucy Crawford.
“Oh my God! You killed everyone!” she shrieked.
Jack finally left Andrew and looked at the voice, then noticed his sister, covered in blood, was still sitting on the floor. He threw himself down beside her and pulled her in close.
Owen looked at everything, the blood, the corpses, the tears, the cracks in the walls from bullets, the broken furniture, the broken people. This was the single most disturbing and horrifying thing he had seen in his entire life.
“Daniel? What the fuck?” he asked.
Daniel marched through the room, collecting anything he deemed worthwhile. He turned to the cowering technicians, “It’s up to you,” he said, “you can come with us or leave on your own. We won’t hurt or stop you either way.”
Daniel, thought Owen, just where in the hell had he come from? How was this guy capable of such destruction? “Daniel, seriously what was that?”
Daniel looked at Owen with that usual childlike expression and shrugged his shoulders, “I panicked.”
Gunfire outside snatched Owen’s attention. Bullets sprayed out all through the streets on both sides of that wall. He could see people sprinting all over the city.
“What do we do now?” shouted Lucy Fielding.
“Now,” said Daniel totally in charge of everyone, “we leave. From now on so this doesn’t get confusing,” he turned to Lucy Crawford, “you’re called Other Lucy.”
Other Lucy nodded.
“We’re going to jump in our cars and get the fuck out of Dodge.” said Emily as she used her brother to pull herself up.
“Agreed!” shouted Cameron from the door.
“But,” said Grace, “we can’t just leave everyone else here trapped.”
“Oh shit!” Owen said, “What do we do? I mean, they might be safer in a locked room from whatever in the fuck is going on out there.”
Lucy spoke up, “It’s got to be a right side better than leaving them here for whatever is going on out there to get them. Let’s at least give them the option.”
Daniel walked to the door, “Then that’s what we do. We unlock their doors and after that they can do what they like.”
“We can’t just go off and rescue people!” said a short and chubby technician with thinning hair and dark eyes, “We need to get out of here.”
“He has a point!” shouted Cameron still at the door frame.
“Fucking tough!” barked Daniel.
“Woah.” Owen said, taken aback.
Daniel continued, “You want to go, then go! Take your chances. Or, pick up something useful and start breaking open doors.”
Two technicians, one with a checked shirt and blonde hair and the other, a tall man with a large beard, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes bolted to the coffee table and started kicking it in.
The chubby technician fled. It was as simple as that.
The two other technicians picked up the legs of the now smashed coffee table.
Lucy skidded across the carpet and scooped up a rucksack, then picked up the keys and talkies from the broken coffee table and rammed them into the bag before throwing it over her shoulders.
“You, Blue Eyes and Blondie.” said Daniel to the technicians, “Get out there and start breaking in doors.”
Blue Eyes and Blondie, partly in fear and partly in hysteria, followed Daniel’s instructions and ran into the hall.
Daniel picked up his golf club, “Here.” he said and handed it to Other Lucy, “You can use this.”
She fumbled it in her long fingers, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Well,” said Cameron as he walked over to his own rucksack and put it on, “swinging it at people you think might kill you would be a start.”
Other Lucy nodded, “Yes. Of course.” she said then left the room.
“We good?” Daniel asked.
And this was one of those moments, one of those unspoken agreements where everyone looked at each other, without speaking or gesturing, but each knew what the other wanted to say. Where they all thought the exact same thing.
Owen sighed on their behalf. “Then…let’s go.”
They left the Room Fourteen Zero Nine and walked into the hall. Blue Eyes and Blondie had already freed some captives. The now freed people mulled around the hall looking terrified.
Owen joined in. He slammed that old and trusted bat into each handle
he found then moved on to the next one.
“What’s going on here?” asked a round man with a thick moustache and a combover.
“We’re leaving. You can come or stay.” said Cameron with the barrel of his gun pointed at the floor.
“Jack!” shouted Owen through the smashing, “Get the doors to the stairwell!”
“On it!” Jack shouted back as he made his way to the chained, double doors. He pointed his gun at the chains.
“Wait!” yelled out Grace. She ran forwards and crouched in front of the chain, “I can get it.” she pulled out two pins from her hair and slid them into the lock.
“Listen up!” shouted the totally changed Daniel, “We’re leaving. Zombies have got into the city.” he wasn’t sure if that was true, but it felt like the thing to say. “It’s up to you if you follow us. And if you can, get a weapon!”
Twenty-two people were alive in that, brightly lit, blood-soaked hall.
“Got the lock!” Grace shouted up the hall.
Jack pulled open the doors and started to climb down.
“Wait!” Lucy shouted, “What about everyone else on the other floors?”
“We can’t go get them,” said an older woman in a suit, “we’ve got this far. Just leave them.”
“Not a fucking chance of that.” said Jack, “If zombies’re already in then we can’t just leave everyone else to die. Does anyone know how many people are still in here?”
“I do.” said Other Lucy, “I saw a list in Andrew Samson’s room. I mean -” she waved her hands in front of her face, “Never mind. There’s some on floor thirteen, twelve and eleven. That’s it.”
“Then we’re getting everyone else out first. If you’ve got an issue with that then fuck off!” said Emily.
They all started the climb down the stairs towards floor thirteen.
Jack leaned into his sister and whispered, “That Other Lucy’s dirty.”
“I know.” replied Emily as she watched Other Lucy descend the stairs, “I can only imagine why she was in that slimy fucker’s room.”
Other Lucy wiped an overly tanned hand across her eyes.
“Oops.” said Jack.
