by Russ Watts
Ranjit flicked to eighteen; it was quiet. Nothing moved but Ranjit knew its secrets. He could see the cupboard where Blondey was and that other poor girl. How could the others not see it? How could they not notice two of their friends were missing? He leant over the desk resting his forehead on his coat. It looked like another night down here alone; another night trying to sleep whilst Stu banged on the door incessantly.
Ranjit switched the monitors off and failed to see the cupboard door on the eighteenth floor swing open. He sat there thinking about his wife and dreaming about going home.
* * * *
As the party subsided, Jill took her chance and sneaked out. It was midnight and she had endured enough torture. As the drinking carried on, someone started playing music from their phone. Jill hated it. She watched as her staff danced and drank, forgetting their troubles. Jill could not forget. She drunk a bottle of red and managed to get her hands on another when she left.
Out in the stairwell, with wine bottle in hand, she tried to decide where to go; downstairs she risked running into Philip, but she did not want company, especially that of an obnoxious City drunk. If she’d wanted that, she would’ve stayed married. The thought of Cindy and Freddy being down there somewhere was too hideous to think about, so she went up. On the very next floor, she paused by the door. She heard noises coming from inside. Surely the seventeenth floor was empty? The infected had not gotten into the building without them noticing had they? Cautiously, she silently pushed the door open and poked her head in. The office was dark but the fire in the Akuma Insurance building projected enough light in for her to see. Troy was sat on a chair and his head was back, his eyes closed. He groaned and his head lolled forward. He dropped an empty wine bottle and it rolled across the floor.
Jill saw a figure, a girl, knelt in front of him. As the wine bottle rolled away the light from the fire flashed across the figure and Jill saw it was Michelle. Michelle was infected and killing him! Then she saw Troy smile as he came in Michelle’s mouth and Jill let the door swing shut and began climbing the stairs.
“Once a whore, always a whore,” she muttered to herself. “I thought better of Troy.” She climbed the stairs quietly and paused once more by the door to the eighteenth floor. There were more sounds inside; shuffling noises.
“Disgusting,” she said and took a swig from the wine bottle. Ignoring the groans and noises, she carried on upward. She finally reached the twenty fifth floor and, finding the door ajar, she pushed it open. So this is where the big shot works, she thought; Christina or whatever her name is. Jill walked through the office and noticed how much more spacious it was than hers. She found herself in the boardroom and looked out at the night sky. It was dark and impossible to see much. Down below at street level, there was movement; evidently those things – she refused to call them zombies – were still there. Bar the burning building opposite, the skyscrapers visible from the boardroom were all dark and quiet.
Jill sat down in the leather chair and drank. Who would notice if she was even gone, Jackson? Not likely. Caterina might, just because she had nobody else to complain to. No, the rest of her staff wouldn’t notice she was gone and wouldn’t even care if they did. She was nothing to them. There was a time when they would come and talk to her. Fair enough, most of the time it had been to complain or bitch about something, but at least they knew she was there. Lately, it had become that she was invisible; as if they couldn’t even be bothered to hate her anymore.
Jill took a long gulp from the wine bottle and spilt red wine down her chin, and onto her clothes. Who cares, she thought. Am I going to go home and have it washed for me? Is my boyfriend going to shout at me? Curse me? Fuck me? Well, imaginary boyfriends did very little actually. I wonder what Alan is doing now? Two years they had been together, one of those married. She could still remember vividly when she had come home to find him in bed with her ex-best friend, Suzy. She stood in the doorway to her own bedroom and watched him screwing Suzy for two whole minutes before he noticed. Even when he turned and noticed her, there was a moment’s hesitation. It was as if he were daring her; come join us or fuck off and leave me to it. They had gone through the motions, the recriminations, but it had been pointless and she knew it. She didn’t really care that he cheated; she expected it. And she knew that he didn’t really care he had been caught in the act. He acted as though he were proud of it.
She heard from someone else that Alan and Suzy were still together, engaged even. Good luck, she thought; I hope you’re both rotting together in some stinking pit, eating the brains of your unholy, unborn, children.
Looking out at the night, she saw her own reflection and noticed how tired she looked. Her face looked terrible and her hair was greasy. She had faint red marks from where she had dribbled the wine down her chin. How had she come to this?
She felt even worse than she looked. Jill stood up and walked over to the window.
“What are you looking at?” she said.
“Not much,” her reflection said, “just a pathetic piece of shit that should’ve been flushed a long time ago.”
“You repulse me,” said Jill. “So high and mighty, and what have you got to show for it? Who are you to tell me what to do?”
“I’m nobody. And that’s what counts here isn’t it. I haven’t got anything to show you, because I’m nobody, a nothing.” Jill’s reflection answered spitefully, spitting out the last words slowly.
“Nobody,” said Jill quietly. Her reflection blurred in and out of focus.
“Nobody.” Jill looked at her reflection. Her face had become her mother’s. She reached up and felt the wrinkles around her eyes, the thin hair on her flaky scalp, and the sad eyes. Her mother died alone in a hospice five years ago.
“You’re nobody,” said her mother and Jill started weeping.
“Nobody,” said Jackson.
“Nobody,” said Brad and Tom in chorus.
“Nobody,” said Caterina, Jenny, Jessica, and Christina. Eventually, Jill heard the whole office in her head chanting the words at her over and over.
‘Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody.’
Alan and Suzy stopped fucking and looked at Jill in the doorway and began laughing. They laughed so hard they nearly fell off the bed. As they laughed, they began fucking again, watching her as they fucked each other. Jill stood, unable to run, her feet sucking her down into the carpet.
“You’re nobody,” said her mother. Jill put her hands over her ears to block out the noise, the cruel words, and the laughter.
“Shut up!” Jill threw the wine bottle at her reflection and it shattered against the window. Jill fell to the floor, cutting her knees on the broken glass. Through eyes blurred by alcohol and tears, she touched her knee where it was cut. A thin trickle of blood crawled down her knee onto the floor and she looked up at the window.
Jill saw her face looking back, her real face. She did not feel the pain in her cut knees. The room was empty and she was alone as usual. She slowly picked up a piece of the wine bottle, a large sliver of jagged glass, and raised her left arm. She sliced quickly and cleanly across her wrist and then did the same with the other arm. Jill lay down on the floor and curled up in a ball.
“I’m sorry, mum, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Jill lay dying, her blood spilling out across the boardroom floor, as the night watched over her.
* * * *
Despite the hangovers and tiredness, most people were up early the next day. The sun was shining brightly again and before eight, everybody was up and making themselves busy. Caterina agreed that everyone could use her toilet, as the others were blocked and the smell was overpowering, so she had little other choice. Troy and Michelle began the search for rucksacks that people could easily carry, while leaving their hands free for weapons. Dina and Jenny were organising the kitchen, sorting out all the food and drink they could take with them. Jessica and Benzo agreed to go back to the terrace café and check what the situation was outside. Christina found Tom an
d Parker and headed to the roof, leaving instructions behind so whenever Jill reappeared, she could join them. Jackson and Kate organised the others into pairs to go look for Amber, whilst Brad and Reggie went to the eighteenth floor to gather the materials they would need to make the torches. Brad said he would check while they were there, just in case Amber was hiding up there. Nobody thought about Chloe.
* * * *
“Over there, see?” Christina was pointing to the west, to a large white building. “It’s the one with the tower at the end, kind of like a bastard church? You see the one next to that pub? That’s the Onevision centre. I think the tunnel must come out just short of it on, um, what is it, Dixon Street? Dickenson Street? Something like that.”
“Yeah, I see it,” said Parker. “I’ve been to that pub, The Fox and Hound. God, I could do with a pint right now.”
“If we get out of here, mate, I’ll buy you a pint of whatever you want,” said Tom. He tried to figure out the tunnel’s path. From the roof where they were standing, it was a straight line. The tunnel must go under the river and up almost straight away; it couldn’t be more than a mile long.
“It’s possible. It can’t be more than a mile from start to finish,” said Parker.
“Are you sure, Christina? I wouldn’t want to get down there and find ourselves popping up in the middle of the plaza,” Tom said.
“I’m sure as I can be. Look, I agree I think it’s worth a shot.” Christina looked past the conference centre to the city centre. The sun made the Thames look like a stream of shining silver.
“Right, let’s convene back downstairs and see what the rest have managed to get together. No point putting it off,” said Tom. “If everyone else is ready, we should just go.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Tom, where are we going to?” said Christina.
“Well, that part of the plan is still a work in motion,” he replied. “Everyone has their own ideas. I think we’re going to play it by ear. If the streets are clear, then I think a lot of people are just going to go home. Husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends; it’s been days now since we had contact. I thought I’d probably try to head home if I can. How about you?”
“Yeah, home I guess.” Christina said no more and looked at the city.
“You think there’ll be a home to go to?” asked Parker. “I don’t want to be the messenger of doom, but, like you said, we’ve had no contact for days. The airport over there is empty; shutdown for all we know. Can you see any traffic on the roads out there? Any boats moving down the river? I think we need to have a plan B.”
“Go on.” Tom sat down on the gravel roof, sheltering from the hot sun against a small ventilation shaft. Christina and Parker sat down next to him.
“Well, it looks clear over there, but for how long? As soon as we appear, then the infected will come looking for us. It might be a rat, it might be a bird, it might be a person; a dead fucking person. I don’t know about the rest of the country, but I think we agreed on one thing last night; that London is a dead city. I know we want to get home and see our families. I know I do. But if we splinter off, go our own ways, we’ll get picked off. We’ll all be dead by sundown.”
In the distance, Tom could see the arches of Wembley. He had always wanted to go there and see a cup final; he didn’t even care who was playing, he just wanted to go. Would he be able to now? Were football and sport and everything else that mattered just history now? Was his home, history? Were his parents walking around with their swollen tongues hanging out as they tried to digest their neighbour?
He tried to convince himself that what was happening in the city was isolated and that outside of his world, life was going on as normal. Kids were going to school, builders were having their bacon and eggs, and the world was spinning as it had done for millennia.
“He’s right,” said Christina. “We have to plan further than the next five minutes or we’re screwed.”
“So let’s talk to the others. I hear what you’re saying but I’m not sure they’ll go along with it. Jackson told me he hasn’t spent this much time apart from his wife, Mary, in fifteen years. Caterina’s worried about her baby. Benzo’s worried about his dad. Trying to get everyone to stick together might be difficult.” Tom picked up a loose stone and threw it over the roof.
“As you said, let’s talk to them,” said Parker. “They listen to you, and Brad - although I wonder why sometimes. If you two say it’s a good idea we’ll probably get everyone on side.”
Tom nodded. They listened to him for some reason. Brad he could understand; he was physically imposing, he was confident, bold, arrogant; everything that Tom wasn’t. He wondered if it might be because he was the newcomer. A strange face meant he didn’t carry any baggage. Tom hadn’t played any part of the office politics and had no favourites. He was impartial, whereas, Brad came with baggage. For some reason that seemed to mean people listened to him.
“I think the city is dead,” said Tom. “Maybe there are one or two others out there, maybe even a small group like us, but it’s over. I know in my heart that my parents are probably dead. The infection spread so quick I would be amazed if they got out in time. We have to get out of the city. That’s what plan B is Parker. We get out of the tunnel and find a car, a bus, a truck, a boat; anything that moves. We get out of the city. And if we get out of the city and find the country is infected, then we get out of the country.
“You know how many people there are in this city? At last count about six point five million. If around ten per cent of those lived, and I seriously doubt those odds, then that’s still over six million dead; which means there are going to be about six million fucking zombies after us.”
Christina shivered. “My staff all left when this started. It seems an age ago now. I assume they got home safe and are probably laughing at me, just watching the news from their sofas, laughing at stupid Christina who stayed behind in the office. Truth is, I think they’re all probably dead now.
“Quite frankly I’m amazed we’re not dead yet. If the infection isn’t restricted to humans, then...you said your friend Freddy got bitten by a rat? Well we’re going to need to keep our wits about us. That means looking out for one another. I should’ve helped my staff, my friends, but I didn’t. I let them go. I didn’t try.
“I’m with you guys. I’ll come with you. I’ve got money, too. I’m not bragging, but it can help and it might come in handy; who knows what’s out there. Talk to your friends downstairs. I think you’ll find they’ll come, too.”
They all stood up and Parker held out his hand to Christina. “Thanks.”
“Good to have you on board. It’s nice to have a level head around,” said Tom. They went back down to the sixteenth floor.
* * * *
Troy and Michelle had gathered enough bags for everyone and they were being stuffed with the last pieces of food that they could find. Brad and Reggie returned with various bottles of chemicals, lighters, and torches. Caterina and Jenny had collected a pile of saucepans and pots, kitchen knives and bottles, large enough to wield against any attacker. Jackson and Reggie stuffed cloths into the empty wine bottles and doused them with chemicals that would burn.
“Don’t light them until we have to though,” said Jackson. “Not until the last minute when we’re down in the tunnel.”
Brad was on his own, filling up plastic bottles with tap water. They had gone up to the eighteenth and thankfully, Reggie’s storage cupboard was on the opposite side to where he had left Amber and Chloe. He hadn’t wanted to kill Reggie, but he would do what was necessary. Brad was angry with himself. He should’ve got rid of them straight away. He had not moved the bodies and in doing so, was leaving himself open to trouble. He was going to have to go back up there and clean up. Now there were people crawling over the building and that would be difficult. Maybe they would leave before anyone would find them. Jackson was not helping, organising his ridiculous little search parties for Amber. Maybe the old man had a crush on her.
Jenny kept looking at him oddly, too. There was no way she could know, but she had asked him the other night about Amber. If she started talking, it could be trouble.
Damn it! It was just the stress of the situation. Normally, he could deal with this efficiently and cleanly. He was going to have to move things along. If he could cajole everyone into leaving now, convince them that they had to leave, then the search parties would be called off. Nobody would want to put themselves at risk just to look for that stupid blonde slut.
“Hey, Tom, good plan, buddy, I hear you. Stick together, safety in numbers and all that.” Brad strode into the office and deposited the water bottles on the floor by the pile of bags.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly my idea, it was a joint effort,” said Tom.
“Say, did anyone find Amber yet?” said Brad loud enough for everyone to hear.
“No, we’ve still got a few people looking,” said Jackson tying together a bundle of candles.
“Well, I hate to say it, but we should call it quits. We’re ready to leave and it’s time to rock and roll,” said Brad.
“But what about Amber?” said Jenny. “We can’t just leave her.”
“Hey, nobody wants to leave the girl, but she’s made her own decisions,” said Brad. “She’s a big girl and she has obviously decided she can take care of herself. You know I wasn’t going to say anything, but I just saw a rat in the kitchen. Now it didn’t bite me, I shooed it off, but, you know...”
“Shit,” said Tom. “Jackson, he’s right, we should get moving.”
“This is bull!” said Jenny. The room was shocked into silence. “I don’t know what game he’s playing, but he’s up to something. Brad was the last person with Amber and now she’s disappeared and all of a sudden, he’s in a rush to leave.”
“Hey, you fat fucker, why don’t you go clean the kitchen and let the rat take a chunk out of you. Maybe you’d like it. Probably be the best action you’ve had in years.” Brad rolled his sleeves up and eyeballed Jenny.
