When There's No More room In Hell: A Zombie Novel

by Luke Duffy

  Whole cities and towns were lost throughout the world, as the authorities tried to stem the spread and bring control and order back to the metropolis. What many didn't know until it was too late was that the dead and infected didn't feel pain on the same level as living people, or feel fear or consider consequences of their actions. Entire police and army units were sent in to secure this street or that square, only to be swallowed up and never seen again.

  Human rights groups protested and spoke out on behalf of the infected, insisting that they still had rights and shouldn’t be systematically destroyed, and that an alternative treatment should be used, though many had seen and witnessed that an infected person could infect two, three even up to five others before they were finally subdued and tied up.

  The human rights movement lost all momentum when, in Paris during a march outside a quarantine zone to defend the rights of the walking dead, a group of roughly a thousand human rights activists were attacked by a swarm of the reanimated who had broken free and emerged from the cordoned area. At first, the protesters attempted to prove that treated with decency, and wanting to make a point for the cameras, the infected were just people and that approached in the right way, with respect to their rights, they could be integrated into society.

  What followed was a bloodbath. At first, the protesters at the back stalled in confusion to the screams at the front. The people behind surged forward as the people ahead of them recoiled once they realised their mistake. The dead fell upon them all, biting, gouging and tearing their way through the crowd.

  Some countries took a more extreme approach. Having lost cities and large areas to the infection, they tried reclaiming them by air strikes. No one pointed out that a reanimated body could continue to be a threat and move even without its legs or arms and one hundred percent burns covering its body.

  Many of them were blown apart in the attacks. But the air strikes created more dead than they destroyed. Most cities were still heavily populated by the living; holed up and trying to survive. Once the bombing started, they were either killed in the blasts and the fires, or their defences were destroyed and left open to the dead. For all the reanimated they killed, the ranks of the dead were replenished by the collateral casualties of war.

  Governments crumbled and were quickly and temporarily replaced by military commanders, religious zealots or weak politicians seizing their moment of power, who then sat and watched as the power they had grabbed crumbled to dust in their hands. The military in many countries were either destroyed or deserted, realising the battle was lost and fleeing to save themselves and their loved ones.

  The religious groups who seized power never lasted long due to the fact that they insisted that it was a sign from God; they spent most of their time preaching and waiting for more signs, rather than dealing with the immediate problem and regaining control of their countries. Some even went to the extremes of making large scale sacrifices to the dead of their own people in the hope of appeasing their angry God.

  The Third World countries were written off by the West and Europe. Africa and Asia were left to die, and America closed its borders and waterways along Mexico and the Gulf area. Whole army divisions were sent to those areas to shoot anyone attempting to cross onto U.S soil. In the meantime, the other states fell to pieces with the spread of the infection within their own borders.

  For a short while, the U.S government tried, in vain, to remain in power and continue to exact a degree of authority and control over the people, but eventually, they too left their country to its fate.

  Australia seemed to fare a little better. Having seen the effects of the outbreaks in the northern hemisphere, she closed her borders and placed her Navy and Air Force in a defensive ring around the continent, with orders to sink any and all unauthorised shipping approaching the exclusion zone; a threat that wasn’t taken very seriously by a cruise liner that thought the rules didn't apply to them. Without hesitation, the ship was sunk and all hands went down with her.

  Worldwide communications began to slowly deteriorate. Mobile networks became temperamental and even the internet showed signs of failure. With people dying or abandoning their posts, the daily maintenance that was vital to the upkeep of the smooth running global communications network wasn’t being conducted, and the more delicate systems suffered.

  Smaller news stations dropped from the air with only the big stations such as CNN and Sky News continuing to broadcast, though accurate updates from the ground became less and less frequent as the days went by, on account of the high number of casualties from reporters. Eventually, people were reluctant to go into the fray in order to get a story and most of the news came from other networks and the populations themselves.

  City after city across the world fell silent, except for the moans and wails of the dead who shuffled aimlessly en masse through the streets. Any survivors were left to fend for themselves.

  9

  Sitting in his reclining armchair, Andy Moorcroft slept fitfully. His girlfriend, Susan, lay on the couch beside him. She had struggled to stay awake for days, scared to close her eyes in fear of what might happen while she slept, but eventually exhaustion had overcome her.

  Andy’s eyes shot open. Pulling the blanket away from him and letting it drop to the floor as he stood, he stared through the hallway and at the front door. The boards and cupboard still remained barricaded against the entrance, but he could hear the shuffling of the feet beyond the threshold with the occasional thump against the door.

  He crept along the hallway and stood on his tiptoes until he could see through the frosted glass at the top of the door. Blurred but unmistakable, he recognised the tops of heads moving about outside. The sight never failed to make his heart skip a beat. He felt dizzy and returned to the living room.

  The television was still on, but rather than the usual news reporters, all that could be seen now was the crazy static signal like thousands of ants scurrying across the screen. Andy shrugged. Either it was really all over and even the news stations had abandoned their posts, or they weren’t receiving the signal for whatever reason. He tried flicking through more channels, but saw the same thing: nothing.

  He looked down at Susan as she slumbered and decided that they needed to start thinking about the plan again. He shook her awake and they moved into the hall. Susan was nervous, her eyes were bloodshot and she looked ready to snap.

  “Okay, you go first. I’ll catch you if you fall.”

  The day before, Andy had smashed out the stairs with a sledgehammer, leaving a chasm below the top step, in case the barricade at the front door was ever breached. He was pretty sure that the infected couldn’t climb rope ladders and it was impossible to reach a hand to the upper floor without the aid of a step ladder or something similar to stand on. He had left a few bed sheets, tied together and anchored to the upstairs floor, hanging down into the hallway as a way of getting up and down.

  Susan climbed the rope, excruciatingly slow for Andy’s liking, but she made it without falling. He followed and pulled up the makeshift rope, securing it against the banister. Without a word, Susan hugged him and began to cry in his arms. Her shoulders bounced with each outburst of tears and she sobbed uncontrollably.

  “It’s okay, Susan, we’ll be alright.”

  He pushed her back, gripping her shoulders tightly, and looked in her eyes. No longer was she the stunning trophy girlfriend; she was a wreck and close to breaking point. They had not washed properly or changed clothes for days; her features seemed raw, but still beautiful without her makeup.

  Andy had always been a bit of a playboy. With owning his own modelling agency and his film star good looks, almost black wavy hair and sparkling blue eyes, he could have any girl he wanted.

  And he did.

  Rarely had he kept any of his conquests on the scene for longer than a few months though. He would enjoy their company, show them a good time, then move on. He never liked the idea of settling down and having kids, sitting in the gard
en reading the papers or washing the family car on a Sunday. To him, life was all about enjoying the moment and keeping everything fresh and new.

  Though the girls had been many, he had always strived to be a gentleman and treated them correctly with respect and chivalry. He always made it clear that he wasn’t one to settle and he never filled them with false hope in the pretence that they could possibly tame him, but that never stopped them from queuing up to try.

  Life had been good to Andy. Successful, handsome, charming, witty and a personality that glowed and lit up rooms by itself when he entered, the world was his oyster. That is, until the dead came back to life.

  Now he stood looking at Susan who tried to control her emotions and strengthen herself, but with snot and tears running down her face Andy couldn’t help but think how long it would be before she was out of the game.

  She had been a stunning young model who had fancied her chances at taming the wild man that was Andy Moorcroft. With natural blonde hair, long slender legs, beautiful brown doe eyes and perfect olive complexion, he had been more than happy to let her try. Now, he feared that anything more than a pin drop would have her hanging from the rafters.

  He led her into the nearest room and laid her on the bed. In the preceding days, they had moved anything of use upstairs. But Andy being Andy, they didn't have much to move, particularly in the way of food.

  He had always been a minimalist when it came to furniture, opting for the contemporary look, and most of the time he ate out in restaurants or at client functions and friends’ houses. So their measly few tins of soup and peas didn't last long, and he was scared of becoming too weak from hunger to not be able to do anything about the situation. So, he went over the plan in his head again.

  He and Susan would climb out of a hole in the attic that Andy had made and carefully make their way along the roof to the gable end of the house. Using a makeshift rope again, and as quietly as possible, they would lower themselves to ground level. Once clear of the house, they would head for the shops and see what supplies they could find.

  If they couldn’t find any, they would check what houses in the area they could safely enter and make their way back to their stronghold. On the other hand, depending on how the situation looked once they were in the open, Andy had suggested that they might keep moving and look for somewhere more safe and secluded, or even head to the police station in the hope of finding help.

  It wasn’t exactly a solid plan, but he knew they had little choice. Either starve to death, wait for the door to come crashing in, or take the necessary risks in order to survive.

  He walked to the window of the front upstairs room and exposed himself just enough to see the street below him. Hundreds of pale grey faces in a sea of swollen blackened limbs and festering bodies bobbed and jostled against each other. He had closed all the vents in the windows, but still the stench permeated into the house and he needed to keep a scarf wrapped around his face most of the time. Bloated flies crawled along the windowsill and over the glass panes. He could hear the buzz of the countless insects and the low steady moan of the dead outside his door.

  He moved closer, careful not to be seen, and looked down the street to the junction. The day before, he had seen two infected people tearing down that same street and into the steadily growing crowd below, and witnessed as they had been torn limb from limb and consumed by the mass.

  Shortly after, he had watched a man and a young girl walk slowly across the same junction. It had been obvious that they were alive and infection free and he had found himself willing them to safety on the other side of the street. At one point, when they were across, he swore that the man had looked straight at him. Even from that distance, the man seemed to see him in the shadows.

  He smiled and thought to himself, I hope you both made it buddy.

  He glanced down, back at the hideous sight below him. His top of the range sports car, once his pride and joy with its dull metallic grey paint and tinted windows, was now smeared in blood, bodily fluids and greasy dirt. Dents and scratches covered what surfaces he could see between the bodies, and his heart longed for the days when he used to drive it around with the top down and a pretty girl in the passenger seat. His shoulders felt heavy at the thought of moments like that being a thing of the past.

  He turned away and placed the step ladder at the hatch to the attic. He woke Susan up again and gave her as much food and water as she could manage to hold down without baulking it back up.

  “Susan, you need to get a grip on yourself. What we are about to do is dangerous enough without me having to worry about you losing the plot. I've already told you, you can stay here if you like, but I can’t guarantee I’ll come back. I might want to push on to somewhere else, and it would be too risky to come back for you and then drag you across the roof. Our escape could be cut off if any of them see me coming back.”

  She wiped her eyes and composed herself. “I'm okay, honest. Please, just don’t leave me. Don't leave me Andy.”

  Andy looked hard in to her pleading eyes. “I won’t, just do what I tell you and we’ll be okay, but I need you to be strong.”

  She nodded her head and brushed her hair back with her fingers, trying even harder to control her fears. She looked up at him and they both exchanged a slight smile.

  “Right then, let’s do this. I’ll go up first and you stay close behind me. Remember, shuffle along the roof slowly and quietly, and try not to let any of them see you.”

  They climbed out onto the roof and steadily made their way along to the gable end. The smell was overpowering, even through the makeshift masks that they wore tightly wrapped around their faces. It made Andy feel nauseous and he had to swallow hard to stop himself from vomiting into his scarf.

  Once at the end of the house, he carefully lowered himself down the rope, pausing at the bottom and listening for any signs that they had been detected. Once he was satisfied that they hadn’t, he waved for Susan to make her descent. It seemed to take an eternity and he became anxious as he waited and watched.

  Safely on the ground, they made their way to the back of the property and down a short alley that led out to an adjacent street. It was clear, and they were soon travelling in a wide arc following the lay of the road toward the shops that they had agreed upon.

  The streets were deserted and quiet with birds twittering, and gazing upward it seemed like a normal early morning. But looking back down to street level, the debris and scarred houses told otherwise. A car had smashed into a street light, toppling it onto the road and onto another car, crumpling its roof inward. People’s belongings lay scattered around the doors and front lawns of houses. Smouldering ruins that had been homes to families, testified to the chaos of the previous week.

  They reached the shops and Andy looked about the street and open area which surrounded it. Nothing stirred. He took Susan by the hand and walked toward a shop doorway.

  “Wait here. I’ll have a look inside and make sure it’s clear.”

  He moved in, his feet stepping on broken glass from the door, the noise of it crunching underfoot, deafening in his own mind. He stopped and looked around at the interior of the shop; the shelves were all but bare. It had been ransacked and what little food was left was ground into the floor and unusable. He didn't want to venture into the dark bowels of the shop, in the hope of finding a store room, so he returned to Susan and they moved to the next one.

  He pushed on the door, and a bell rang. He froze and winced trying to sink his head into his shoulders; nothing. Glancing back, Susan was staring at him, annoyed and frightened at the sudden noise he had made in the otherwise still air. He pushed the door fully open, the echo of the bell above the door still reverberating through the shop.

  Again, the place was a mess and had little to offer, but Andy decided to take whatever he could find on the assumption that no matter where they tried, it would all be pretty much the same. He was halfway down the first aisle when he heard Susan scream. He spun on his h
eel and sprinted back for the door.

  Outside, he came face to face with three infected that had Susan pinned to the wall at the side of the door. She had stopped screaming, her eyes had rolled to the back of her head and blood gushed from wounds on her arm and thigh. The three infected were oblivious to Andy until he reached for Susan.

  One broke off from the others and lunged at him, arms outstretched with unblinking eyes fixed on him. As a reflex, Andy threw a straight punch to the creature’s face. The impact shredded its lips as its teeth had come through the skin, crunching against Andy’s bare fist. He punched again, and his attacker toppled backward in a heap on the floor, immediately trying to regain its footing.

  Closest to him was a little girl, or what had been a little girl, of no more than eight years old. Her hair was matted in greasy locks to her scalp and her complexion pasty and pale, her eyes dead and hazed over. He knew what it was and he kicked at it from the side, catching it in the ribs and forcing it to lose grip on his girlfriend. At the same time, he grabbed Susan by the collar of her jacket. The two infected on the floor found themselves tripping over each other, and the third fought to get across them and to Andy as he dragged the unconscious Susan back to the doorway.

  Andy pushed his back against the door to force it open, the dinner bell ringing loudly above again. He dropped Susan to the floor and slammed the door shut, wedging it with his foot. He didn't have time to deal with Susan right away; he needed to secure the door. Looking around at his immediate surroundings, he opted to drag the ice cream freezer that was just within reach and slammed it against the shuddering door as the creatures on the other side slammed their bodies and fists against it.

  He reached down and dragged Susan across the shop towards the rear of the counter, holding her under the arms. He glanced out of the bay window and saw more and more infected approaching. He headed for the back of the shop and hoped to find a flight of stairs leading to the apartments above. He found them and had to carry Susan the whole way. She was unconscious and not responding. Her clothes were completely red with blood and a slick trail of the precious fluid snaked along behind them as he dragged her.