by Ian Woodhead
Dennis knew that the mistress would have a fit if she knew that a have-a-go hero was in the building trying to destroy her vision from within. Well, when Dennis stops him and informs the mistress, he knew she’d let Dennis keep his new pet.
He jumped when the man on the other side banged on the door. With sweating hands Dennis opened the door and managed to smile at him as he reeled off his speech. After listening to the man’s heart-felt words and gazing into this jerk’s sincere face, he decided to zap the bastard right here and now. He was going to wait a little longer until the hero found a few more live ones before taking them all out together. He looked over at the couple; he’d seen them two around before. Dennis saw a flicker of recognition flow across the old man’s face. He remembered Dennis too. The girl, on the other hand, didn’t take the slightest interest in poor Dennis.
He glanced down at his baton and saw the charge was back up to full. As he looked back up, though, the man had moved away, heading for the other door. That really annoyed Dennis, that man had just dismissed him. How dare he!
“Hello, I’m Edward, and this is my wife, Gloria.”
Dennis gazed in contempt at the smiling man, holding his hand out.
“I’ve seen you around here before, I’m sure I have. I had no idea that you lived on our level though.”
Dennis pressed his baton against the old man’s thigh and grinned in triumph as he crumpled to the floor, and he did the same to the woman before she had chance to scream out. This was going to be easier than he thought.
The young girl had her back to the wall; now that he was close to her, Dennis saw that she was prettier than he first thought. He licked his lips and tried to swallow away the excitement.
“What the hell have you done?” screamed the man.
Dennis spun around and held the baton out in front of him, he felt as though he’d just been caught red-handed stealing sweets. There was still enough charge left to take this champion out of the picture. He nodded, “I’m not afraid of you.”
The man didn’t seem to be bothered that Dennis was armed, that caused him to hesitate; he should have at least looked a little concerned.
“Well, you should be afraid” he said. “Don’t you worry, Jennifer. He isn’t going to harm you.” The young man looked directly at the girl, “I gave you my promise, remember?”
The girl broke into sobs. Dennis shook his head, this wasn’t right. He was the good guy.
“I’m not going to hurt you, miss.”
Dennis suddenly looked up and yelped when the man ran towards him. He jumped up and kicked the baton out of his hand, and he watched in disbelief as his tool skittered across the carpet. That wasn’t supposed to happen! Dennis’s instinct for self-preservation kicked in; he turned and raced down the corridor, confident that the man wouldn’t give chase. He’d be too busy ensuring the others in his charge were okay—it’s what heroes did.
He yelped in shock when Dennis heard running feet close behind him. Oh, this was so not how it went! Dennis skidded round a corner and raced towards an open apartment door. Her slammed it shut, ran over to the other side of the corridor and silently opened the door opposite. The chance of going in here when anything could be waiting was, he knew, a pretty high risk to run, but Dennis put a brave face on. He was the alpha male here, not that other one.
Through a gap in the door, he saw that the man had burst through the door opposite and disappeared into the apartment. Dennis grinned, he couldn’t help it. That man fell for his cheap trick, what a buffoon! He doubled back, eager to collect his winnings.
The grin fell off his face when he found the girl lying across the carpet with two naked kids chewing through her neck.
“You dirty little imps! How dare you, she belonged to me.”
One of the kids, a blonde girl, removed her teeth and hissed at him. She then jumped up and leaped onto the wall. He stared in disbelief as she clambered up and hung from the ceiling like a huge spider. The mistress never said anything about demonic children climbing up walls!
The other child then followed the blonde girl, and with horror he realised that they were both coming for him. Those evil things had turned her neck into burger meat. He took one pace back, not wanting to end up like her. He then spied the dropped baton. Would it work on them? If not, he could always use it to bash in their brains.
Dennis dived for it. He shrieked as a heavy weight dropped on his back and he heard low growling just by his ear; Dennis rolled over, laughing as the imp on his back gasped and let go. Dennis turned and pushed the two prongs into her face. The little girl arched her back before falling silent. The other one had retreated further along the ceiling, keeping his eyes fixed on Dennis.
He pointed the baton at the boy, “Yes, I’m the alpha male here.”
He heard the other man slamming the apartment door; he waited until he was within sight of Dennis before giving the loser a single finger salute. He turned and ran in the opposite direction, confident that he wouldn’t follow Dennis this time.
Chapter Fifteen
Only two composers sprang to mind, but considering he only knew of two, Craig didn’t consider it all that surprising. So, was it Mozart or Beethoven? Then again, he didn’t care which dead guy had composed that song. He just wished Laurence would turn that blinking computer off.
The big goon had ordered him to stay by the door and keep watch as he explored the apartment. Ha! As if he could stop a horde of dead people from stumbling in to get the goon. The first sight of one of those things and Craig was going to run in the other direction. He peeked through the door; the PC was right there, in front of him, just three paces away. The classical piece had re-started. Craig had to question the wisdom of why anyone would wish to hear this song on a loop.
He guessed the person who’d pressed the repeat button on the mp3 player would have been able to given him a valid reason. Craig would have asked him if he’d have been able to reply. The fellow was right there, sat in front of the computer. He turned back and closed his eyes, trying to force down the bile that threatened to fly out of Craig’s mouth.
The guy’s head wasn’t on his shoulders. Someone or something had ripped it off. The perpetrator and the head wasn’t in the apartment. At least, that’s what Laurence had said, the last time he’d poked his head out. He groaned and hoped the goon would hurry up, Craig hated being alone. What was taking him so long? Craig still didn’t have a clue why he had gone in there; when he’d had asked that question, the goon had just laughed and shook his head.
The song started to play again.
There were two bloodied hand prints on the door opposite him; he’d seen a lot of blood on their way through the mill but those prints were right at the bottom of the door, he couldn’t see how they could get there. Christ on a bike! He wished this fucking annoying music would stop.
He jumped at the sound of scratching wood; Craig slowly turned his head and saw the lifeless face of one of the dead things gazing through the window of the fire door. He gulped back a sob; he turned to see if Laurence was coming and when he looked again, the face had gone.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he murmured. Craig ran into the room. The headless man’s hand was still around the mouse. He grabbed the wire and pulled the mouse off the hand. The man’s arm fell off the table, almost toppling the corpse onto Craig. He jumped out of the way and used the mouse to mute that horrible music.
“Thank fuck for that,” he muttered.
Craig then discovered that the music had been camouflaging another noise. The sound of something wet being consumed. He spun around and saw one of the dead things crouched in the corner of the room. It looked directly at Craig; its expression was almost comical. The thing pulled its hand from out of the severed head’s neck stump and slowly stood up.
It then took one step forward, blocking Craig’s escape route.
“Get the fuck on the floor!”
Craig spun around and saw Laurence racing towards him holding a thick
length of metal piping. He did as he’d been ordered and dropped down. Laurence growled, Craig covered his eyes, and all he heard was the sound of the pipe hitting something meaty then the noise of the brain eater hitting the carpet.
“What part of stay where you are did you not fucking get?”
Craig gasped when the man grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him up. The man then put his hand on Craig’s chin and jerked his head to face him.
“When I tell you to do something, I expect you to fucking do it.”
Craig couldn’t shake or nod, the man’s grip was too tight. Instead, he lashed out with his foot, catching the man on the shin.
“You little bastard, I’ll kill you for that!”
Craig jumped away from the man’s lunges. He ducked past him and ran into the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me that one of those things was in here?” he shouted. “That dead man could have eaten me and you wouldn’t have even noticed!” Craig fell back against the side of the fridge and slid down to the floor, he tucked his head into his knees, trying and failing to hold back the tears. He wanted to go home; he wanted his mum.
He yelped when he felt the man’s large hand rest on his shoulders.
“Easy now, lad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap out like that. I’m sorry.”
Craig lifted his head, he wasn’t sure he heard that. Did the goon just apologise to him? “Why didn’t you tell me about that dead thing?”
The man shrugged, “You would have screamed like a big girl. Besides I wanted to find out why it didn’t shamble after me when I entered the apartment.”
“It was the music?”
Laurence nodded. “It appears that music does indeed tame the wild beast. Our dead friend had a hard on for Mozart’s Don Giovanni.”
“What, you knew what that was called?”
Laurence picked the boy off the floor; this time the man was a little gentler. “It’s not a good idea to judge by appearances, kid. Here, grab this.”
The man handed him a broken table leg. Two long screws had been driven into the splintered end.
“These are the reasons why I came in here. The pistol only has a couple of rounds left in the magazine. We needed something that didn’t run out of ammo.”
He showed Craig what he’d whacked the dead guy with. Craig noticed the bits of red, grey glop dripping off the end and tried not to throw up.
“They’ll do until we get to the top floor and break out the big guns.”
“Thanks,” he replied, viewing the improvised weapon with distaste. Did the goon actually expect him to use this?
“I know what’s going though your mind, lad.” Laurence said.
The man’s mouth split apart revealing an uneven collection of boulder like teeth. Craig then realised that the scary man was trying to smile. It was obvious from the whole cave troll impersonation that the goon was more used to snarling and looking generally frightening.
“Look, buddy. Just imagine that you’re inside a videogame. Every time you whack one of those zombie fuckheads, I’ll give you ten points.
Craig just stared at the man, not believing his ears. “But they’re people!”
“Okay, well what about me giving you twenty points?” The man shook his head, “Oh for fuck’s sake, lad. They are just walking bags of meat; they’re no more alive than a lamb chop.”
Craig followed the man out of the kitchen. He hadn’t spent much time with this unpleasant man, but it was enough to know that he would expect Craig to make use of the instrument he’d given him.
The chances were good, though, that he may not have to use the bloody thing. There had been no movement in the corridor; likewise, the stairway had been empty. They only had to go up another few flights of stairs and traverse two more corridors. Hell, even if there were another one of those things staggering about, the goon would be on top of the thing in no time. He saw the enthusiasm he had shown in dispatching the brain-eater.
“I can do this,” he whispered.
“You look a little pale, lad. You ain’t going to start blubbing on me now.”
“No, I’m just excited that’s all,” he replied. “I can’t stop thinking about getting my hands on one of those pistols.” That was only partly true, he did feel excitement about seeing some real guns, but he believed that he’d no more be able to shoot one of the people than whack one with his puny stick.
Laurence laughed and patted him on the back. “Good lad, I got a bit worried just then when you went all moist on me. I seriously thought about leaving you here.” The man placed his index finger under his chin and lifted his head up. “I’m trying to be subtle here.”
“I understand,” whispered Craig. “You can be sure that I’ll pull my own weight.” What else could he say? If it hadn’t been for the goon’s swift actions, the thing in the corner would now be scooping out Craig’s brains.
Laurence then froze. “Someone’s coming!”
Craig slowly nodded; he heard the footsteps as well; it sounded like there were two of them.”
“Okay, lad, this is your chance to shine.”
Craig raised the stick above his head and slowly walked towards the open door.
“Remember to aim for the head.”
The goon stepped in line behind him; he wore his cave troll smile, “Are you ready?”
Craig psyched himself up, nodded, then ran out into the corridor; the two young women in front of them screamed then staggered back in terror.
“Easy, lad,” said Laurence.
The man wrenched the table leg out of his hands and propped it against the wall. He brushed past Craig and crouched down in front of the cowering girls.
“It’s okay, we won’t hurt you.”
He took two ragged breaths whilst watching the goon’s thinly veiled patience begin to disintegrate as the girls shrank back from his presence. Craig leaned over Laurence’s head and saw their faces for the first time. Beneath the grime and dried tears were two of the most gorgeous girls he had ever seen. Both looked around his age.
“Oh, god! I’m so sorry,” he said. Craig’s delicately balanced emotions began to fragment when he realised just how close he’d been to murdering at least one of them. “I thought you were another one of those things.” He gasped. A ghastly mental picture then formed of himself standing over the body of the blonde one as the dark haired girl ran off screaming, bits of brain dripping off his table leg whilst the goon laughed and told Craig that he was giving him a hundred points. He shook it away and swallowed away a lump than had formed in his throat.
The goon stood up and patted Craig on the head. “I’m sorry if my son gave you a fright.” Craig watched Laurence try to smile again, the muscle-headed moron was beginning to get the hang of it now; he didn’t look so fucking scary. The two girls got to their feet and tentatively approached them.
“What’s happening?” asked the blonde girl.
Craig shrugged, wondering why the goon had just called him his son; he wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or honoured. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “But we’re as much in the dark as you are. Look, you can’t stay here; do you want to come with us?”
The relief on both their faces almost broke his heart in two. The feeling that these two girls were looking up to him was kind of awesome, especially considering if this hadn’t happened, these two wouldn’t have given him a second look.
Laurence picked up his table leg and thrust it into Craig’s hands, “Look, are we going or what?”
Craig hid his grin away, the poor goon must be feeling all pushed out. “What are your names?”
The blonde girl opened her mouth, then suddenly jerked her face up towards the ceiling, she gasped, “Oh lord, please not them again!”
Craig heard it too; those kids were right above them. The dark haired girl grabbed her companion’s hand and pulled her towards the fire exit and the end of the corridor. Laurence raced after them.
He then watched as the entire ceiling above the girls collapsed. A
dozen small naked bodies landed on the backs of the shrieking girls. Both Laurence and Craig rushed over.
When Laurence leaned towards that mass of writhing bodies, three more emerged from the dark recess and scaled down the wall towards the big man.
“Look out!” screamed Craig.
Laurence looked up, saw the approaching kids and jumped back. All three stopped, glared at the man and hissed like rabid cats. He growled, then bludgeoned an infant girl clinging to the wall behind him.
“No!” screamed Craig. “On my god, what have you done? They’re only little kids.”
Every child suddenly froze, each one glowered at Laurence; the man took one-step back when several kids leaped onto the wall and scuttled closer to the big man. Craig then noticed that the child who Laurence had smacked wasn’t as dead as he thought. Despite the tubular indentation across her face, she still managed to get onto her knees. Then she jumped into the main pack and wriggled through the statue-still bodies. The ones on the wall abruptly turned and scuttled back towards the others.
Laurence spun around, Craig saw another unfamiliar expression carved onto his face; it looked like fear.
“Fuck this shit,” he muttered. Laurence rushed over to Craig and pushed him away.
“Wait, what about them?”
“They’re dead,” he cried, pointing to the blood soaked kids who were all now engrossed in gorging upon the corpses.
Craig pulled his arm out of his grip, fell to his knees, and vomited. They reminded him of lions clustered around the corpse of a zebra. He threw up again.
“Come on, lad, we need to make tracks.”
Craig nodded, wiped his mouth then got to his feet; despite not wanting to turn, he looked anyway—he had to say sorry to them. He then saw another kid crawl through the gap and drop into the middle of the pack.
“Oh no, please, not you as well.”
Laurence then grabbed the boy’s arm and dragged him towards the fire exit. He tried to look past the man’s torso, desperately trying to catch another glimpse of his sister.
