Dead Eyes: A Tale From The Zombie Plague

by Dwyer, James

  I felt the anger rising inside of me, my hands uncontrollably balling into fists. “You risked my life for this,” I said.

  In my mind I saw Libby’s face fading into nothingness, hope of finding her here dying in an instant.

  “Don’t get bent out of shape. We’ll be gone soon.”

  Timed perfectly, the shriek of a Daisy echoed through the corridors behind me. “What was that?” said Morgan, finally shifting his attention away from the drugs around me.

  “Run!” I said.

  I turned and left the pharmacy, running in the opposite direction to the Daisies. The floor was shined and waxed to perfection and I slipped trying to gain purchase. I looked back and saw Morgan wasn’t following me. At first I thought it was stupidity, the grip his addiction had over him. Then I turned the corner.

  “Mmmmmmoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrr.”

  The corridor was filled with moaners. Behind them was the fire escape, the doors open wide. More zombies were filing in. Driven by their hunger. How could they know we were here?

  I looked round for another escape route. A stairwell to the upper floors was the closest option. I ran for the door, slamming it shut behind me. The moans followed me up the stairs, pushing me harder. There had to be another exit on the next floor.

  I left the stairwell and continued running. The first floor was just wards. Unlike the rest of the hospital, this place was a mess. Bloodied towels and medical waste covering the floor. I ran as quickly as I could, being careful not to tread on anything that would send me tumbling.

  I was about to pass through a set of double doors when I saw a body in one of the side corridors. It was once a zombie, its skull caved in by a golf club. I looked up and saw a face at one of the ward windows. An elderly woman stood there staring at me, tired drained look on her face. At first I couldn’t tell if she was a zombie or not, the lack of emotion on her face making it impossible to judge.

  “Mmmmmoooooorrrrrr.”

  The sound snapped the woman out of her fugue. She gestured for me to come to her quickly. I ran to the door, stepping round the fallen zombie. She unlocked the door and opened it, closing and locking as I made it to the other side.

  “Get down,” she said.

  We ducked down behind the partition, keeping out of view from the window. As we sat there quietly, I saw that the woman was severely injured. She had bandages and strapping all up her left leg, a pair of crutches on the floor nearby. More heavy strapping wound around her torso, moving up to her shoulders so that she appeared partly mummified. There was a fresh red stain on her arm, the bandage unable to conceal the teeth marks in her flesh. She had been bitten.

  My eyes widened when I saw the marks, the woman noticing my shock. “It’s still fresh. I still have some time left.“

  There was a loud bang from inside the ward behind us. It was coming from the toilet cubicle, the door shaking on its hinges as something inside fought to get out.

  “Be quiet Geoffrey,” said the old woman, “Calm yourself.”

  She looked at me and smiled. “My husband. He does get excitable some times.”

  “Is he?” I began.

  “Dead? Afraid so. Still, seems whilst his spirit is gone, the body still remains. He was always stubborn like that. Are you a doctor?”

  “No. I came here looking for some other people,” he said.

  “I see,” she said, sighing sadly.

  She put her hand on the bloodied bite-mark, applying pressure against the wound. “That’s it for me then.”

  “Wait,” I said, “I’ve just come from a survivor camp. They have a cure there.”

  “I wish I could believe you,” she said.

  “Its true. They’re even airlifting survivors out of the infected zone. If you come with me, I can get you the help you need.”

  “Sounds too good to be true.”

  “It is true, I promise you.”

  “Then,” she began, “Then why did you leave?”

  “I thought someone I cared about was here,” I said.

  The old woman smiled. “Love makes us do stupid things.”

  I nodded. The knowledge that Libby was gone hit me hard. I would never see her again. I finally knew that now.

  “We have to get out of here,” I said, “More zombies are coming.”

  “This is it for me,” she said, “I won’t leave here. Not whilst I’m alive anyway.”

  “You have to,” I said, “I can get you out of here.”

  “And Geoffrey?” she asked.

  “He’s gone,” I said.

  She nodded, eyes welling up. She took a moment to compose herself, determined not to let the sadness take over. “I knew it. All those years of marriage where I berated him for spending too much time at the golf course.”

  She gestured to outside the ward. “Who knew his skill with a five iron would come in handy? He was bitten fighting the thing off. We came here looking for help you see. Ended up trapping ourselves. He turned in eight hours. Locked himself in the bathroom. Told me not to come in. I couldn’t resist. Had to see if he was alright.”

  She held up her bandaged arm. “He isn’t.”

  “What’s your name?” I said.

  “Susan,” she said.

  “I’m here to get you out of here Susan. No arguments. I’m going to get you to safety.”

  “I would only slow you down,” said Susan.

  “Then I’ll move slower,” I said, “I came here on a wild goose chase. I might as well make something good come from it.

  “What about Geoffrey?”

  “He would want you to leave him. And the person I came here to rescue, she would want me to help you too.”

  I sat up and poked my head up to the window. The corridor was clear, the sound of moaners far away the only sign of the undead. “I have a vehicle outside. If we can get to that we’ll be safe. Okay?”

  She nodded her agreement. I stood up, reaching down to help her up onto her feet. She winced as she put pressure on her wounded leg, holding her injured arm up to keep it elevated. I picked up her crutches and gave them to her. “I’ll move as fast as you move,” I said, “Just follow my footsteps.”

  I pushed the door open and stepped outside. I held the door open whilst Susan followed me. Behind her, Geoffrey banged angrily on the door. “Settle down Geoffrey,” she said, “Stop making a nuisance of yourself you silly old bastard.”

  Despite her gentle admonishment, I could see that she was suffering leaving her husband behind like this. No on should have to see their loved one change like that.

  We crept along the corridor towards another fire escape, further away from the one I had escaped up from. The green sign up above the doorway seemed to stay the same distance away for ages, Susan’s movements slow, agonisingly so.

  “Keep moving, I’ll scout ahead.”

  I ran to the fire escape door and peered through the glass window in the door to the stairwell.

  “Why are you helping her?”

  I looked into the glass and saw my grandfather’s reflection staring back at me. “What’s to stop you running away? You’ll make it by yourself. With her your dead.”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the image out of my mind. When I opened my eyes again, the black holes of darkness were there, breaking up my vision. I could see the shadows growing in front of me, getting larger.

  “Look out!”

  Susan’s shout brought my attention back to the room. I turned just in time to see the cause of her alarm. It was a scratcher, shuffling down the corridor towards us.

  Instinctively I stepped back into the stairwell, closing the door behind me. The scratcher looked at me through the window as it passed, heading towards Susan. The easy target.

  “Help!” she screamed, frozen in terror.

  I could leave her, I thought. It would be the easy thing to do.

  I grabbed the pistol from my waistband and opened the door. The scratcher was bearing down on Susan, who was frozen to
the spot, unable to run away because of her injuries. I darted in between them and crouched down, turning and raising the pistol at the scratcher’s head.

  The bullet exploded the zombie’s head, covering Susan and me in a spray of undead blood. The rest of its brains splattered on the floor like sickly thick rain.

  The dead zombie twitched on the floor, the disease still sending spasms of movement through its limbs.

  “Come on,” I said to Susan, taking one of her crutches away from her and putting her arm across my shoulders.

  She felt strangely light as I moved with her, as if she had no weight at all.

  We stepped round the dead zombie. Already I could see the white hairs sprouting. The sight sent a shiver through my body that made me almost drop Susan.

  She held on tightly, grabbing onto my jumper with a tightly closed fist. “You can do this,” she said to me.

  We moved quicker as a pair than separate, me acting as a crutch, allowing her to focus on moving her good leg whilst I moved the rest of her body.

  We reached the stairwell. Making our way downstairs was trickier; our pace slowed once more by the awkward descent. I focused on the bottom landing, ignoring the growing weight on my shoulders and the fears of what may be waiting on the other side.

  Finally, we made our way to the bottom landing. I was thinking of our options now. It was pointless trying to drag Susan to the jeep by myself. I would have to leave her and come back. How could I suggest that to her?

  “Take a break,” I said to Susan, unloading her from my shoulders.

  She dropped down and sat on the stairs, exhausted. I moved to the door and looked through the glass pane. The exit was on the other side of the corridor, another room on the other side.

  Inside the corridor, a single moaner stood motionless. As if it was waiting. Blocking the exits whilst its evil kin searched the rest of the building. Then I saw what had its attention. Through a set of double doors, I could see Morgan at the window. He kept looking behind him frantically, as if deciding what to do next.

  His eyes caught me looking and he began gesturing frantically at the moaner.

  “Mmmmmooooorrrrrr.”

  I had no choice. I took out my pistol and counted the bullets. Four left. Including the one reserved for me. I looked back at Susan. “Stay here.”

  As soon as the door opened, the moaner turned to me. It was about to cry out again when I raised the gun and fired. The gunshot rang loud and clear, the zombie falling down to the ground, returned to death.

  Morgan burst through the double doors, quickly closing them behind. “There’s so many of them,” he said.

  I looked through the windows and saw the undead marching on our position. At least thirty of them, filling the corridor, heading straight for us. No Daisies. Not yet. I ran back to Susan, calling out to Morgan as I ran, “Come help me.”

  “We have to go,” he said, his voice urgent and scared.

  “I’m not leaving her,” I said, “Come grab her other arm.”

  Reluctantly he moved over to help. “What the fuck is that?” he said, pointing at Susan’s arm.

  “Lover’s tiff,” said Susan.

  “She’s been bitten,” he said.

  “They have a cure at Churchill,” I said.

  “No way,” he said, “I’m not going to risk it.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” I said, “You help me or I’ll end you.”

  I pointed the gun at Morgan, hoping he wouldn’t call my bluff. He was a coward, but he wasn’t stupid. He looked at me for a moment before reaching down and helping Susan up off the floor, both of us placing her arms over our shoulders.

  “We move and we don’t look back,” I said to both of them, “If we hear screaming, we run like hell.”

  They nodded and we began our escape attempt. We crossed the corridor and into the opposite room, a small alcove before the outside world. I signalled them to stop at the exit door, wanting to see what lay ahead of us.

  From the limited vantage point I had, all I could see was grass turf between us and the front entrance of the hospital. We would be exposed when we crossed, I didn’t see any other option. We just had to run for it.

  “They won’t let us back inside,” said Morgan, “Not after we stole one of their vehicles.”

  “I don’t care,” I said, “They’ll let Susan in. We’ll have to make do on our own.”

  “We could just head straight to Highmouth,” said Morgan.

  “No,” I said, “Susan first. Then us.”

  I pushed the outside door open and stepped into sunlight. At any other time I may have stopped to marvel at how beautiful the day was. Sun shining beautifully above us, the sky a clear perfect blue, green grass blowing gently in the breeze.

  Right now, I only had one thought on my mind. Escape. We moved as quick as we could across the lawn. Behind us we could hear violent banging on windows, the sound of glass cracking.

  “Oh god,” said Morgan, looking back, “They’re coming for us.”

  “Eyes forward!” I shouted, “Just think of the jeep. Think of us getting out of here.”

  We moved quicker, the moans from the undead chasing after us, spurring us on. We were halfway across when I heard the first shriek.

  “Shit,” I said.

  “What the fuck was that?” said Morgan.

  “Quicker,” I said, “We have to move quicker.”

  The Daisy cried out again, this time closer. We ran as fast as we could, Morgan slowing us with his panic. “We won’t make it,” he said, “We’re not gonna make it!”

  “Come on!” I said, trying to make him snap out of it.

  It was no use. He let go of Susan’s arm and sprinted off ahead of us towards the jeep. “Come back!” screamed Susan, “Come back you coward!”

  Morgan ignored her cry and ran towards the jeep. He had almost made it when the Daisies burst out the front door. It was the same ones from the West Wing, their emaciated bodies covered in the tattered medical gowns. Their dead red eyes fixed on Morgan, who froze as he saw them. “Help,” he said, “Help me!”

  He began running back to us but it was too late. The Daisies were closing in.

  With no time to think, I picked Susan up in my arms and ran towards the nearest hiding place. Beside the large lawn was an ornamental garden with hedges, flowerbeds and a large fountain. I could see the fountain had been drained. We could hide there. I jumped over the stone edge and landed inside the fountain. I landed awkwardly on my ankle, a large sharp pain rising up in my mouth. Before it could escape, Susan placed her hand across, silencing me.

  The pain subsided. She removed her hand from my mouth and ducked down behind the fountain wall. I poked my head up to see what had happened to Morgan. The Daisies were upon him. He was running as fast as he could. They were faster. He turned and screamed as the first one leapt at him like a starved lion on the savannah. The attack sent him down onto the floor, the other Daisies converging upon him, tearing him apart. Sating their hunger. He didn’t suffer for long.

  “What do we do?” said Susan.

  “I don’t know,” I said, trying to think of a plan.

  The jeep was too far for me to carry Susan. Not without getting caught. I slammed my hand against the concrete wall of the fountain, furious with myself.

  Susan placed her hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me. “You did all you can,” she said, “You tried.”

  “We can do this,” I said, “Just give me a minute.”

  “No,” said Susan, “We can’t. But you can.”

  She stood up and pulled herself up onto the fountain. “What are you doing!” I said, trying to pull her back down.

  She pushed my hands away. “I don’t want to go on without my husband. Besides he’s probably looking out for me. Standing with St Peter, saying I’ll be along soon. Best to not keep him waiting.”

  “Don’t do this,” I said, the emotion threatening to overflow inside of me.

  “Just make sure this do
esn’t go to waste, okay?” she said, “Get to the jeep and get out.”

  She stood up on the other side of the fountain and hobbled away. Once she was clear of the garden, she began shouting.

  “Come and get me you bastards! Choke on these old bones you evil beasts.”

  Something about the way she swore and threatened the zombies was extremely heroic. “Take a bite on this you wankers. Come on! I’m ready for you!”

  The Daisies ran towards her, blinkered by her appearance. She had given me my escape route. Susan closed her eyes, a huge smile on her face.

  “I’m coming Geoffrey. I’m coming!”

  I jumped over the fountain wall and began running towards the jeep, limping painfully on my sore ankle. Behind me I heard the insults become screams as the Daisies reached Susan. I wouldn’t let her sacrifice go to waste.

  The lawn was crawling with zombies now, mostly Moaners and Scratchers, drawn to Morgan’s dead body. Scavenging for scraps. They looked at me mournfully, knowing that they could not catch me. The hunger grew stronger inside of them. They would become Daisies soon, I knew it.

  I reached the jeep and climbed inside. The key was not in the ignition. I began searching the cabin, desperate to find the key. I could see Morgan’s body engulfed by the undead. There was no way I could go back.

  I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, cursing my stupid luck, when I looked down and saw the wires pulled out from the bottom of the steering column. The vehicle had been hotwired. A screwdriver sat sellotaped into a small metal socket. I grabbed it and twisted and the engine roared into life. I was safe after all.

  Quickly, I put the car into gear and began driving. It wasn’t until the hospital had long disappeared in my wing mirrors that I finally stopped to take a breath.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The image of Susan’s sacrifice burned brightly in my mind as I drove back towards Camp Churchill. I could still see her standing there, defiantly taunting the Daisies as they charged toward her.

  “She knew what was required.”