Dead Eyes: A Tale From The Zombie Plague

by Dwyer, James

  I turned and ran, a chorus of shrieks behind me the signal that the race had started. Run for your life, their screams told me, it won’t matter. We’re going to catch you.

  I entered the main office and zigzagged between the cubicles. The Daisies crashed into the furniture behind me. I could hear them scrambling, making a beeline for me, not following my path. It was my only chance; their desperate desire to eat me overruled any strategy. Just go for the kill.

  The stairwell was getting closer. For a brief moment I thought I would make it. Thought I would be able to make my escape.

  Then the other Daisies appeared, filling the doorway ahead of me. They had heard the dinner call of their horrible brethren and had come to join in the feast.

  The first sprinted towards me. Unobstructed by any cubicles it had a clear path. I had no choice; I raised my gun and fired. The Daisy flew back, hitting the others behind it, giving me a moment to think.

  I spotted a nearby office at the edge of the room, the only escape route left.

  I leapt up onto the nearest desks and jumped. I felt Daisies clawing at me, their horrible fingers brushing my feet as I flew through the air. They shrieked in frustration as I landed out of their reach, the hunger driving them wild. I ran towards the office, hoping that the door was unlocked.

  The noise behind me became louder, the horde of Daisies screaming together. It was as if they knew…

  I grabbed the handle and turned. Unlocked.

  Quickly I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I felt for the lock, my focus solely on keeping the door shut. I was lucky. My fumbling fingers found the mechanism and I quickly locked the door.

  It was just in time. The Daisies threw their full weight at the door that shook angrily in its hinges. I took a step back, fearing that the door wouldn’t hold. I was in an office at the edge of the building, cut off from any way out. Stranded. Cornered.

  The door held.

  My radio crackled into life. It was the survivor, from the group I had rescued. “Come in chopper, we have made it to the helipad and are ready for airlift.”

  I looked out the window and saw the helicopter turning round and heading back towards me. “Roger that. Will be with you ASAP.”

  “How long can you give us?” said the survivor, “We have to go back and help whoever rescued us.”

  “I can’t wait,” said the pilot, “I’m pushing my luck as it is.”

  “Please, just a few moments more.”

  The pilot did not respond. I lifted the radio to my mouth. I knew what I had to say. Even though it went against everything I had ever been taught, all the indoctrination, all the rules my grandfather had given me. It was time to surrender.

  “Leave me behind. Just get out of here,” I said, my voice trembling, not as confident as I wanted.

  “We can’t just leave you.”

  “Listen. I’ve already fucked things up. It was me who stole the jeep from the camp. Me and Doctor Morgan. If I hadn’t taken the jeep, your plan would have worked.”

  “That doesn’t matter now…”

  “Of course it matters. I was only thinking of myself. Now I know better. I’ve learned this too late, but maybe I deserve too late. Get out of here. I’ll be fine.”

  The Daisies seemed to pound on the door harder, mocking my words.

  The survivor paused. I could tell he wanted to leave. I didn’t blame him. In the end, I made the decision easy. “I’m switching the radio off now…to save battery power. Good luck out there. When you get to the safe zone, tell them that there are still people alive here. Tell them to send help. We need it.”

  I switched the radio off, loosening my grip and letting it drop onto the floor. The reality of my situation suddenly hit me. I was trapped high up in a skyscraper; the only people who knew I was alive were leaving for the safe zone, a horde of Daisies just waiting to tear me apart. I was fucked. Again. Most likely for the last time.

  I lifted my service pistol and checked the ammo, looking for that final bullet that had kept me awake so many nights wondering when the time would come. The time was now and it was gone. No bullets left, not even for me. The end was out of my hands now.

  The helicopter took off and disappeared over the horizon. With it, all hope of escape. The sight didn’t drive me to despair. I didn’t scream or shout for them to come back. I had made my choices and now I was living with them.

  When the time had come to prove myself, not just as a man but a human being, I had done the right thing. My grandfather’s voice was gone now, gone forever. He had tried to corrupt me and failed.

  I had done the right thing. Even if it meant my life would be cut short.

  So be it.

  ✖

  The assault stopped at sundown. I couldn’t work out why the Daisies had stopped their attack. They didn’t sprout the white hair and go into hibernation. Something far worse was happening outside the office door. The Daisies were waiting. I could see them gathered around the door, silently staring through the glass.

  This awful vigil scared me even more. I could handle the Daisies screaming impotently outside the door. This was different. It showed me just who had the power in this dead end situation. Time was on their side. The hunger knew that. It could afford to wait. Until I became reckless. Did something stupid or desperate, something that would cause me to make a mistake. Then they would strike and feed.

  The office was filled with a warm orange glow, the last amber rays of sunlight. My eyesight was starting to fade once more. The sudden burst of clarity that came with my self-sacrifice was only a brief reprieve. Maybe it was genetic after all. Or maybe all the past sins I had committed in my grandfather’s name outweighed the one true good deed I had done.

  I shouldn’t have been too surprised that the Daisies would wait until night time to stop their attack. In the past few days I had seen more Daisies than ever before. Whatever was behind the reanimation; be it the white mould, voodoo or something else, it knew what it was doing. Conserving energy when no prey was nearby, shrieking to disorient its victims, these were all tactics of a living organism. Not the mindless zombie like the Scratchers and Moaners. This was a whole new creature. How could I win when the odds were stacked so high against me?

  Resigned to my fate, I walked around the office to the huge bay windows and looked out to the city at twilight. The final beams of sunlight shot out from beyond the horizon. One last sunset before it all came to an end.

  The beams of gold and amber silhouetted the rest of the city, turning it into large black stones, like a huge graveyard. Empty windows in each building remained forever darkened. Where once each window gave you a small glimpse of life, now they were black. Television screens never to be switched on again.

  A graveyard. For humanity or just the survivors left behind? Perhaps I should have felt fortunate that the Olympus Tower would become my headstone.

  My eyes burned briefly, reminding me of the strain I was putting them through. I was determined that this last night wouldn’t be spent feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to look out at the world one last time and see the wonder I used to find there.

  Instead something finally dawned on me, something I had spotted before but never given any thought to. Until now.

  Floating through the air, past my window, more of that strange pollen I had seen before. Streams and streams of it seeming to float across the city, like rivulets from some invisible river. The pollen seemed to glow in the twilight, almost magical, like pixie dust coming to rest on the city.

  A flurry of this strange dust broke free from one of the streams and splattered against my window, leaving a sticky white stain that I instantly recognised as something far from magical. It was the mould, the white fur that covered the Daisies. This was the infection, the disease that had torn civilisation apart. And it was floating freely in the sky. No wall was high enough, no ditch wide enough. How could the hunger be stopped?

  I turned away from the window and back to the office, no
longer keen to see the wonder of the world. Maybe I was lucky to be leaving all this behind. Before things became worse, if that was possible.

  I sat down on the floor beside my gear and took out a tin of tuna. My favourite meal over these past few months. Might as well make my last meal something to savour.

  The tin finished, I tossed it to one side and picked up the radio. I quickly scanned through the channels again, out of habit more than hope. In the hours leading up to sundown, I had searched frantically for a human voice many times. Now it was just routine.

  Still, one last search wouldn’t hurt.

  I was greeted, once again, solely by static, electrical fuzz that filled the radio with white noise. I was told once that the static on a television screen was leftover from the big bang. Perhaps the radio white noise was the same. Here I was at the end of my life listening to the beginning of it all.

  I switched the radio back to the emergency channel and began talking.

  “This is my last message. I have given up hope of hearing a reply. If someone is out there listening, I don’t blame you for staying silent. I am a survivor trapped on the forty seventh floor of the Olympus Tower, surrounded by undead. I cannot escape. But I am not messaging to call for help. I just want to warn anyone listening.

  “The white fur you see floating through the sky, that looks like pollen or something harmless, its not. It’s the infection, the thing that makes the dead come back. If you see it, then know that the undead are close. Not just any undead, it’s the later stages, when they are at their most dangerous. I call them Daisies, it doesn’t matter what name you give them. The infection is airborne. No matter how many walls you build, guards you post to keep watch, it can’t be stopped. The only things you can do are run or fight.

  “That’s why you have to stick together. To find other people and help each other. It’s the only way to stay alive, to make something out of all this chaos. I turned my back on other people far too many times. And now I’m paying the price.”

  The sound of breaking glass broke me from my monologue. I stood up and looked through the window in the office door. The darkness in the office meant I could see nothing but shadows and blurs, different shades of grey that gave everything an abstract quality.

  My presence at the window stirred the Daisies. They were more attentive than before, the broken glass having caught their attention too. I realised then that they weren’t looking at me. They were looking over to the outside window.

  More breaking glass. This time I knew where it was coming from. I ran to the window and stared out into the gloom. Looking down I could just make out broken windows on the floor below. Dark shapes climbed outside, scrambling up the wall towards me. I had locked myself in the office and barricaded the door. How could I barricade the windows? The undead had analysed my defences and found a way to break through.

  I ran back to the radio and began speaking once more. There was one last message I had to send.

  “The undead are coming for me now. I won’t last much longer. I have just one more message to give. Libby, if you’re out there, I’m sorry for leaving you. I should never have put you in that situation. You were right for wanting to help. I can see that now. Back then, I was only thinking of myself. I let the shadow of my grandfather cloud everything, even the time I spent with you.

  “I hope you and the children made it safely. And that you found some happiness amongst the chaos. I had my happiness with you and I threw it away. For that, I will die with more regrets than I wanted.

  “Maybe I’ll see you again in some other life. I guess I will be finding out soon enough.”

  My final message was punctuated by a tapping on the window. I looked up and saw a Daisy right outside, banging against the glass. It was holding something in its hand, a piece of broken metal.

  The fucking thing was using a tool.

  The glass started to break, a long agonising sound as the window began to crack. I stepped back to my corner, wishing I had something, anything, to defend myself with.

  Another Daisy climbed up beside the first, joining its kin in smashing against the glass. As if on cue, the darkness outside was broken, illuminated by light from the moon.

  The horrible grey blurs suddenly found form and details. My heart stopped as I saw that these undead were different. Not Daisies, another level. A forth stage. Gone was the wildness, the frenzied attacking nature. These zombies were calm. Composed. Intelligent. The undead were evolving once again.

  The glass shattered with a loud bang, the air from outside rushed in and knocked me off my feet. Using the vision the moonlight gave me, I crawled to the nearest office chair and threw it at the closest undead. It struck the creature square in the chest and sent it spiralling backwards into night.

  The other undead turned to watch its kin fall before climbing inside. I grabbed another chair and threw it. The zombie saw it coming and ducked easily out of the way.

  Terrified, I started reaching for everything in sight, bombarding the zombie with all I could get my hands on. Chairs, stationery, even an empty water cooler tank. The zombie dodged my assault easily, standing there, waiting for me to use up my ammunition.

  “What are you waiting for?” I screamed, “Come and get me.”

  The zombie stood passively, staring at me, its gaze seeming to pin me into the corner. “Come on you piece of shit. Eat me!”

  The waiting was killing me. Why wasn’t it attacking? I was trapped. There was no way out. Why didn’t it just kill me?

  I looked out to the open window. One last avenue of escape. My legs started shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation. They knew what I had to do. I stood up and ran to the window, to leap out into the night. I would end things on my own terms.

  I was at the window when the zombie moved towards me, catching me around the waist with one impossibly strong arm and throwing me back into the corner.

  I landed heavily on my feet, a snapping pain in my ankle telling me I had injured something fragile and important. I cried out in agony, my leg twisted at an impossible angle beneath me. Cornered and crippled. What else was left?

  “What are you waiting for!” I screamed, “Finish this!”

  Dark clouds eclipsed the moonlight, plunging the office into darkness. I could just make out the zombie ahead of me, an angular dark shape. It felt like I was looking at the devil or death itself. Come to collect its due. The zombie turned away from me and began moving towards the door. It reached out to the handle and twisted the lock.

  Click.

  The door burst open and the Daisies spilled inside, shrieking and screaming. They moved around the new zombie, not getting too close. They were scared of it too.

  The writhing grey blurs poured towards me like a horrible wave of frenzied animals. One grey mass of gnashing jaws ready to devour me. To tear me into pieces to satisfy their need. Their hunger.

  At the end of it all, the hunger always wins. Death must feed on the living to survive. Without life, there is no death.

  The hunger will be sated.

  My eyesight finally gave in, plunging the room into blackness. All my other senses seemed to amplify, warning me of what would happen next. The smell of rotting flesh, the sound of the shrieking and screaming horde. The touch of their horribly clawed hands on my skin.

  I cowered back in the corner and waited for death to take me. Sensing the undead closing in, I was happy for the first time to share blood with my grandfather. The blindness would hide some of the horror of my demise.

  And as they started tearing at my flesh, biting into my neck and body, I thought of Libby. The only thing that could numb the pain.

  Send me back; send me back to that assembly hall. Where I could tell her that I would stay with her until the end. Whatever it took, whatever happened. I would be there for her.

  Until the final darkness tears me away.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  James Dwyer is a writer based in Poole on the South coast of England. Living in
Poole, Dorset, James has won prizes for his short film scripts. With a passion for storytelling and writing, James hopes to one day make a living out of monsters, mystery and murder. Until then, he hopes people will enjoy reading his stories as much as he enjoys writing them.

  He is currently working on his first full length novel “The Labyrinth”, a horror adventure novel with monsters, myths and murder.

  To find out more about the author and be kept up to date on his upcoming novel visit his website or contact him on twitter or via email.

  Other stories from this author

  Dark Christmas Tales

  A collection of five short stories set around the Christmas period.

  Amazon UK

  Amazon US

  The Dead

  A short story following an old man finding himself trapped at the start of a zombie story.

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  The Rat God

  A short story following a sadistic pest exterminator who finds himself punished by the creatures he killed.

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  Winter’s Bride

  A young girl is chosen by her village as the ritual sacrifice to keep Winter at bay. Can young Frieda escape her destiny and the icy embrace of Jack Frost?

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  Frankenstein’s Monster Goes West

  A US Marshall on the trail of a brutal murderer, starts to suspect that he is not hunting a man…but a monster.

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  Amazon US

  @jamesdwyer87

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