by Luke Duffy
Jake, Gary, and John had heard the commotion and came down the stairs behind him. Further up, Helen and Claire stood at the top of the stairs, straining to see what was happening.
Gary looked back at them and held out a hand, telling them to stay where they were.
Steve recognised the limp form, now curled tightly into a ball and whimpering. He looked back up at Lee, his eyes wide and questioning.
“What happened, Lee?”
Lee’s chest was heaving, and Steve saw that it wasn't from the exertion. He had tears in his eyes and he struggled to speak as he sobbed. He gestured at Tony. His hand was swollen from the beating he had dished out.
In a voice that was on the verge of breaking as he fought to control himself, he spoke, “Ask that bastard there. Send someone down to the Information Office to see for themselves.” Lee looked up from Tony, his head shaking at something he was struggling to comprehend. His tears had broken through their floodgates and they now streamed down his cheeks in glistening rivulets. “Kids, Steve, they're just little kids.”
He let out a howl and began to throw kick after kick into Tony’s ribs as he writhed and screamed under the blows.
Jake and John moved to the door and ran out into the night to the Information Centre.
Lee continued to rain down kicks and stomps onto the quivering and pulverised mush that was Tony. Gary approached him from behind and grabbed him by both arms, speaking soothingly into his ear as he pulled him away to allow Steve in to see to Tony.
“It’s okay, Lee, it is okay. He isn’t going anywhere. You can leave him for now. Come over here and sit down. Your hand looks hurt, let me have a look.” Gary took his hand in his own and began examining it, trying to distract Lee from launching any further assaults.
Steve knelt over the now still and unconscious Tony. His face was unrecognisable and Steve wondered how Lee hadn't managed to kill him, though from the look of it, it had been his intention.
Helen came into the lobby, her hair sticking up and a scruffy old baggy t-shirt just barely covering her perfectly formed thighs and buttocks. Steve couldn't help but steal a second glance, even with the carnage and emotion around him.
They moved Tony to the couch and gently placed him down under the lights so that Helen could examine him better. Steve left her to it and moved over to the table where Lee sat, sobbing into his folded arms with Gary and Carl sitting either side of him.
More people had come down the stairs and Steve noticed that the room was now pretty full. He saw them staring and heard the odd mutter here and there, including Stephanie’s whispered voice.
“He's finally done it. That psycho has actually gone and killed someone.”
Steve turned in her direction and gave her a hard stare that shut her up immediately and forced her to shrink back into the crowd.
“Lee. Hey mate, what the fuck is going on?” He was leaning over his shoulder and speaking into his ear, pleading with him as he rubbed him on the back.
Lee raised his head and tried to speak, but his words were gibberish.
“It’s okay, calm down and tell me what happened.”
Lee sat up, sniffing up his tears and breathing deeply as he wiped his eyes. He looked to Steve, his eyes pleading. “They’re just kids, Steve,” he said again, “chained up in an office, just a couple of little kids.”
Steve sat back and looked at Gary, who returned with a shrug. “That's all he told me, Steve.”
The lobby door crashed open and Jake entered, followed closely by John. They looked flustered and out of breath and headed straight for Steve and the others, pulling them to one side when they got there.
Jake looked severely shaken, even terrified and spoke in a hushed voice. “Lee was right. This sick fucker had a couple of kids changed up in the Information Centre. It looks like he’s had them there a while too.”
Steve glanced over his shoulder at Helen and then back to Jake. “Where are they now?”
John looked down and Jake followed suit. “They're dead, Steve,” John replied.
Steve felt sick. The room began to spin and he had to steady himself against one of the chairs behind him.
“A little girl and boy, Steve, I think they had been alive for a while. There were food wrappers and water bottles lying about, but it looks like he killed them a week or so ago. Steve,” John’s voice was grim but urgent. Steve looked up into the burly man’s staring eyes, “they were naked, Steve. I think he, I think that bastard, he...” John couldn't finish the sentence and looked away, shaking his head, but Steve knew what he was trying to say.
Lee was sedated with what pills and potions the people of the house could come up with, as well as a good helping of whiskey and brandy, then placed into his bed. Carl stood watch outside his door while he slept.
Tony was carried into a back room, his hands and feet bound to a table that he was laid upon. Helen, upon hearing the story, refused to treat him any further and no one in the house could blame her.
The two reanimated corpses of the young children, Amy and Robert, were removed from the Information Centre and John was burdened the responsibility of taking care of them. He argued with his inner-self and justified it with the fact that he was putting them at rest and bringing them peace. It was still no easier for him to do, and Steve saw how deeply it had affected him when he returned and opened a bottle of whiskey. He sat in silence, acknowledging the existence of no one, and didn't move until the bottle was empty.
Steve now found himself at odds. What was he to do? All the time he fought to keep his rage under control and stop himself from bursting into the room to beat Tony to death. Images of the boy and girl, snarling and clutching at him, fighting against their restraints as he entered the room, flashed into his mind.
He guessed that the girl would have been about ten and the boy, maybe eight, probably brother and sister. He couldn’t imagine what horrors and tortures they had been forced to endure. He held his head in his hands, clutching at his hair and sobbing.
He also remembered how well Tony had interacted with the other people of the house, especially the children, including Sarah. All the time, there had never been a single, obvious warning sign. No alarm bells or inclinations of his ulterior motives. He felt sick to his stomach, ashamed of the fact he had failed to protect and keep the people he felt responsible for from harm.
Instead, he had let the bastard in and welcomed him with open arms.
Only Lee had been right.
Gary called a meeting in the lobby. Only Steve, Helen, Jake, and John were asked to attend, but many more turned up, feeling that they had the right to be there, some being parents themselves.
Gary held his face in his hands as he sat at the head of the table. He looked up and glanced about at the people who stood in silence, watching him.
He let out a long sigh and sat back, resting his hands on the tabletop. “Well, what do we do?” He tried to meet the gaze of the assembled people, but each one turned away or looked down as he made eye contact.
“We string the fucker up,” Carl said without hesitation. He sat at the far end, staring at his hands.
Steve sighed and leaned back in his chair as he looked up to the ceiling. “I dunno what is right and I don’t care, but I agree with Carl.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowded room as people gave their own hushed opinions amongst themselves.
Helen nodded, “Me too.”
“Is that it, as simple as that?” Gary asked, glancing from Steve to Helen.
Steve glared at him, “What do you suggest then, Gary, counselling?”
Gary held up his hands in defence. “Whoa, Steve, you're getting me all wrong here. I'm not disagreeing with you. What I'm asking is: do we decide it as easily as that?”
“What other action should we take?” Steve changed his tone. In a cold and calculated voice he said, “Okay, let’s look at it logically then. There are no police, no prisons, no psychiatric hospitals, no judges anymore, and no other treat
ment as far as I'm concerned. He is a threat to everyone here. Even Lee told us that he heard Tony speaking of plans to kill us. We can’t turn him loose, he could come back, or other survivors could fall victim to him.” He looked down into his lap and then back up, staring straight ahead at the far wall. “I hate to say it, but I quote Joseph Stalin here: if you have a problem, get rid of the man. Then you have no problem.”
A woman named Julie spoke up from behind. “Are you really gonna just, kill him? How can you?”
Jake turned on her and growled. “Hey, we've been killing much better than him for weeks now. They may be dead but they're better people than Tony as far as I'm concerned.”
“But still, we can’t just kill him. What about the law, what about justice? The man needs help, not execution.”
A few more mumbles could be heard within the group.
Helen spoke, “I was a pediatric nurse before all this, and I've seen what those monsters do. I've seen kids beaten to within an inch of their lives and heard the excuses that they had fallen down or walked into something. I've seen the blood smears between the legs of little girls and boys and the withdrawn faces and whimpers of children as they suffered in silence with no one to fight their corner.
“I've even reported my suspicions and findings to the hospital administrators, to the police, only to be met with excuses about how the law can’t do anything for this or that reason. I was even suspended for three weeks after taking the law into my own hands and refusing to allow a girl’s father to take her home because I suspected he was abusing her.” She turned to Carl and nodded. “I agree with him, we string the bastard up.”
Julie erupted with emotion in her voice. “For the love of God, can you listen to yourselves? You sound no better than him. We are not barbarians who summarily execute people. Capital punishment was abolished in this country a long time ago.”
Slamming his hands down on the table with a loud echoing bang, Steve suddenly rose to his feet and turned to face the crowd, singling out the source of the voice of reason from the woman, Julie, who had spoken up.
He spat and hissed his words, “Listen to you. Are you fucking serious? I've already told you there is no law, no police or prisons. What shall we do? Try and make him right?
“He held those two children for Christ knows how long, right under our noses. He raped them, beat them, tortured them for weeks, and eventually, killed them.
“Were you one of those bleeding hearts in the past, who always insisted that monsters, like him can be cured and placed back into society? To be allowed the protection of the police while he stalked the schools again, surfed the net, and spent his time picking his targets?
“Tell that to the parents that lost their children to fiends like him, who then found out that the powers-that-be knew about him all along. The law has protected him and failed us for long enough, and this time, right here tonight, that bastard in there,” he growled and pointed his finger in the direction of the room where Tony was being held, “gets the treatment that all of those animals should have gotten from the start.
“No counselling, no chemical castration, no prison sentence followed by a new identity and government hand-outs to see him through afterward. No, he dies, simple as that. And I dare any fucking one of you to try and stop me.”
He stomped around the table and toward the back room. Anyone in his path quickly stepped aside and made way for him.
Jake, John, and Carl followed, and after a moment, so did Gary. They burst into the room and dragged Tony’s limp body to his feet. He was barely conscious and struggled to walk as they marched him out into the lobby. The crowd hushed and stared at the beaten man before them, then parted, showing that most of the people in the house agreed with the verdict. That was the final confirmation for Steve. How could everyone in the room be wrong in their judgement?
They pushed Tony to the door and outside, bundling him into the back of one of the cars. Jake took the wheel and drove straight for the far side of the park, toward the corner where they had felled the trees to build the barricade.
Tony had come to and began to realise what was about to happen. He sat crying and begging for forgiveness, pleading with them to let him go and that they would never see him again.
Carl slapped him hard across the face. “Shut up, cunt. You die tonight, and believe me, you will suffer.”
They reached the corner and gagged Tony to stop him from screaming and attracting any attention before they wanted him to.
John and Steve grabbed the ladders Gary had attached to the roof of the car and placed them at the wall while Jake and Carl climbed and waited on the other side after securing the second ladder.
Gary remained by the car. It wasn't that he was reluctant. He knew that the others were far more agile than he was and once they were ready, they would need to be fast at getting back over. He watched as Steve and John hoisted Tony over the wall and down the other side.
Tony was carried and dragged beyond the barricade and placed in the centre of the road at the junction. His muffled cries and pleas were already attracting some attention and they could hear the slow shambling footsteps approaching in the darkness. Carl rested a foot on Tony to keep him in place while John kneeled against his back.
The four of them peered into the murky night. No one had any uncertainty at all in their minds about what they were about to do and the ethics of it.
“Can you see any?” Jake hissed.
“There,” Steve said from his left, pointing down the road at two figures that staggered toward them in the gloom. They lurched and dragged themselves closer, moaning and gurgling as they approached.
“Okay, remove the gag,” John said.
“Wait,” Carl whispered and stepped over the immobilised Tony.
He reached into his pocket and as he removed his hand, Steve saw a faint flash of silver. Carl moved in close and began to tear at Tony’s trousers. A second later and Tony was writhing and screaming from behind the gag as Carl worked on him. He stepped back and in the gloom of the night, Steve could see the almost black blood that covered Carl’s hands and the lump of fleshy meat he held in his palm.
“Eat this, you fucking cunt,” he snarled as he reached down and ripped the cloth from Tony’s face and stuffed the severed penis into his screaming mouth.
The dead were closing in. More of them had appeared from the darkness. Tony began to beg and plead, whimpering and crying as he squirmed on the ground, clutching at the men’s legs with his tied hands as they moved away from him.
“Please, please don’t let them get me,” he cried.
Steve looked down at him in disgust. He felt nothing. No remorse, no empathy, or sympathy. Most of all, he felt no doubt.
The four men began to shout and holler into the night, hoping to attract more infected. After a moment, satisfied that they must've caught the attention of the whole area, they turned and ran through the gap of the barricade and to the wall, scampering up and over to safety as the first screams began to ring out behind them. Long, bone-chilling shrieks, filled with pain and suffering reverberated in the night and the haunting moans of the dead could be heard even inside the car as they drove away.
That night, Steve sat on the edge of his bed. At odds with himself and asking questions he couldn't answer. There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for a reply, Helen entered. He looked up and in the twilight of the room, he could see her beautiful outline and the distinctly attractive features of her face.
She sat on the bed beside him and placed a hand across his back, rubbing him gently between his shoulder blades.
“Steve, you okay?” Her voice was soft and soothing.
Steve shrugged and looked down at his hands as he picked at his nails. “Do you think we did the right thing? I mean, my heart says we did, but my head isn’t sure now.”
“Steve, what you said was right. It’s a new world now, and there is enough danger as it is. You were also right about what you said regarding the tr
eatment of such monsters. They shouldn’t be allowed to live, Steve, even before all of this started.” She shook her head as she spoke.
He turned and looked at her. She made him feel calm and sure of himself, even content. When he looked into her eyes, he had no doubt that they had done the right thing.
She leaned in close, a slight smile on her face and she stared at him, unblinkingly. “I think we both need this.”
And without another word, she kissed him, long and hard.
29
A brown sticky puddle had accumulated around his feet and it spread out across the floor and under the couch. Flies buzzed around it and some became caught in the gooey mess and struggled to climb free.
His bodily fluids had drained to the lower extremities and finally burst through the flesh as the skin had putrefied and became thinner, until it finally gave way and the fluid seeped out over his shoes and onto the tiled floor of the shop.
It wasn't just the floor that was soiled. The couch was covered in all manner of filth. More of the stomach’s contents had become dislodged as the organs rotted and dissolved and passed through the rectum and oozed out around his body.
His skin had dried substantially, withdrawing and losing much of its moisture as it clung to his rotting muscles and bones. It now took on the appearance of soft leather with a deep green and blue hue.
His eyes had sunken back into his skull casting deep dark shadows in their sockets and making the brow seem more protruded. His lips had shrivelled to hard, crusted, and curled lines above his teeth that were constantly visible now, while the skin of his face had tightened and made his cheek bones seem more prominent.
For weeks, Andy Moorcroft had sat in the same place, occasionally looking up and staring blankly at his surroundings. Always, his gaze would fall upon the large smiling picture that hung on the wall. Every time, he reacted the same way. At first, confusion as a faint memory stirred, then an emotion that could only be described as sorrow. Something inside his rotting mind told him, that image had once been you.
