As he inched closer to the door, his injured hand began to tingle and he could feel a headache coming on. He thought nothing of it, the adrenaline that had made him forget about the pain was evidently beginning to wear off.
“Dammit”, he murmured, trying to forget about it again. He pressed his back against the wall besides the front doors and glanced out to see if the coast was clear.
With no sign of the boy anywhere in sight, he deliberated using this opportunity to flee the scene.
Squeezing the crowbar in his hands and pressing it to his chest, he took a few deep breaths and just as he turned to run through the door, the boy leapt out at him.
“Found you!” He shrieked and Daniel’s heart almost escaped his chest. Where had this little fucker popped out from?
Daniel fell backwards and scrambled to his feet as the boy climbed into the shop in pursuit of him.
Daniel tried the back door, but it appeared locked. Seeing nowhere else to run, Daniel threw anything he could reach at the boy, a few of which hit the boy, but didn’t appear to faze him, instead he charged at Daniel, knocking him to the ground with tremendous force.
“I don’t want to play anymore, I’m too hungry!”
“Fuck you!” Daniel shouted and swung at the boy with the crowbar, drawing blood the first time, but again not fazing the boy. Like what the fuck? Did the concept of pain not correspond at all?
The boy bore his teeth with intent to bite Daniel, but Daniel defended himself by wedging the crowbar between the boy's teeth. Together they tussled, a bloodlust and crazed glint in the boy's eyes, with the spray of his saliva and an erratic twitch.
Gaining the upper hand, Daniel managed to shove the boy off of him and subdue him upon the floor, where he pushed down on the crowbar wedged between the boy's mouth. Daniel poured the full extent of his power into pushing down that crowbar, breaking the boy’s jaw and pushing it back into his skull, still the boy struggled, hissing and lashing out at him. Daniel retracted the crowbar and hit him with it repeatedly until he had cracked his skull and blood sprayed across Daniel's face, then he would wedge the crowbar between the boy's teeth as the boy begged, pleaded and screamed for forgiveness and repeat the process, every so often retracting it to continue his onslaught. It was at that point that Daniel realised he was no longer in control of his actions, it was as though his body had taken on a mind of its own and try as he might to stop this heart-wrenching senseless violence against a minor, his body simply would not listen to him.
‘Stop it! Stop it, please!’ He would scream at himself, but his arms continued to batter the boy, cracking open his skull and spilling its contents like a watermelon. Consumed with an unfamiliar and terrifying blind rage, it was only as the boy lay upon the ground a bloodied, twitching and gurgling mess, did Daniel stop.
Where had his humanity gone? He pondered staring at his bloodied hands, before gazing over at the flattened mass that was once a boy's face.
Why did he have such little control over himself? It was a strange phenomenon, like looking through one’s own eyes as a spectator. He could think rationally, yes, but these fury driven actions were not his own. Bemused as to where this frightening anger had stemmed from, to not only kill a little boy, regardless of the fact the boy had attacked him, but to smash his face into nothing more than a bloody mess, Daniel tried to regain control of himself, but found he could not, his body was moving independently, muttering obscenities, venting anger towards everything and everyone, especially... Terry.
He stood up, clutching on to the blood covered crowbar, still seething with rage.
Just then, two more of those psychopaths stopped at the front and glared at him, twitching and foaming at the mouth.
Shit, he thought, realising that even with the crowbar, there was no way he would be able to take on two fully grown psychos when he had had that much difficulty with just a fucking child.
As though that wasn’t enough, behind him came a sound and he turned to see the mutilated child impossibly stumbling to his feet without regard for his state.
But as Daniel had just about given up and was prepared to accept his fate, the two psychos at the door left, paying him no further attention and the headless child stumbled right on past him and out into the open.
Daniel was lost for words or thoughts and for a while he couldn’t quite comprehend why they had disregarded him, until the headache worsened, the repetitive whispers in his head to kill Terry amplified and drowned out his own thoughts and his entire body began to twitch erratically. It had become clear, he was now one of those people and he knew why. His finger, his fucking finger. That fucking child had infected him.
Having come to this realisation, he accepted it, succumbed to the pain, the rage and the desire to kill anything that stood in his way.
Stumbling out of the shop, he stood there, surrounded by noise, the noise of screams, the noise of explosions, the noise of gunfire and the noise of people running past him, shouting, screaming and muttering under their breath.
He felt invigorated, stronger than ever before and consumed with this insatiable desire to eat and eat nothing but meat in all its forms.
A grin spread across his face as he finally knew what he had to do, kill Terry, kill those fucking insolent children of his and eat Natasha alive so that they would become one forever, this he would make a reality.
With that, he stepped out of the shop and broke into a sprint with one destination in mind, Natasha’s workplace, he would unify them first, he would never let that fucking Terry have her.
CHAPTER 15 - GEORGE: 5:02pm - 5 Hours, 17 Minutes since outbreak
George could vaguely recall in which direction they had dropped off his father and as he went in search of him, he couldn’t help but oversee the destruction that had taken place here prior. People were fleeing in the opposite direction clearly spooked by something or another.
George suddenly didn't feel so confident, maybe it wasn't the best idea to leave his sister behind, but when he came to, he panicked, neither one of the girls was responding, were they dead? He did ask those people for help, before leaving to find his dad.
Did he even have a plan? If and when he did find his father, what then? What if his dad got angry, especially for leaving his sister? What if he only slowed his dad down in the process? What if he didn't even make it to his dad?
He shook his head, he couldn't think like that, it was scaring him.
As the streets emptied out, it became evident that most people had run away at this point and a few short seconds later it was clear to see why. Up ahead of him were several of those crazy people he had seen earlier. They seemed pretty preoccupied with the people they had killed and were eating, or at least the search for more people to kill.
He didn't think they had seen him, or at least he hoped they hadn't. Sneaking past them wasn't going to be easy, but at least he could use the cover of the cars to make it a possibility. Did he know the way to his mother's workplace at the very least? He could remember the road she worked on, but hadn't the slightest clue how to get there.
He ducked and kept low, using the cars as cover to slip by the crazy people. It certainly wasn't going to be an easy feat with so much debris scattered everywhere, but what other choice did he have? He just had to watch his footing.
Timing his moves before slipping between cars and constantly glancing over the cars or through the windows to see where the crazy people were, George’s heart raced faster than it ever had in his entire life, he was terrified, one false move and those crazy people would be all over him, tearing him apart in the same horrific way that they had those other poor people.
George felt nauseous and his legs and hands were trembling uncontrollably, at this rate they'd most certainly find him. He kept his head low, slipping from the cover of one car to the next when two of those crazy people had left the area. There were bodies everywhere and the scenes were morbid, stomach-churningly so. Men, women, children and even animals all lying dead on
the street in pools of their own blood.
There was no video game that compared to this, no amount of violence in games could weigh up to this horror unfolding before him.
There was a clearing ahead with an alleyway, if he could just slip out of the cover of these last few cars, he could probably make it over there unnoticed, but that was easier said than done.
Creeping along the side of the cars, remaining as silent as he possibly could, George waited for his moment to slip out into the exposed clearing and get into the alley.
Just then, as he was but a few short seconds from making the nerve-racking attempt, he heard a noise from behind and turned to see nothing. Just as he had begun to think nothing of it, the noise came again, closer this time.
Following the direction of the sound, he looked upwards, towards the top of the car he had taken refuge behind and there atop its roof was one of those crazy people glaring down at him.
George's heart skipped a beat and terror consumed him as he stared up at a monstrosity that was once a human being. Foaming at the mouth, menacing wide eyes, covered in her own blood or someone else's.
She twisted her head at an impossible angle to get a better look at him and he found he couldn't move, he was cemented to this spot and to make matters worse, he could feel his trousers getting damp beneath his bottom, a phenomenon that needed no explanation, shame was the last thing on his mind.
The crazy woman crawled on all fours like a lizard, twitching and gurgling.
"Well what do we have here? A fucking rodent. I hate rodents!" The woman spat.
Everything in George told him to run as she advanced towards him, but he just couldn't, he couldn't move.
"It does look fucking delicious though, doesn't it Earl?" She continued. Who was she talking to?
"Oh... that's right, Earl is dead. I tore out his fucking guts and ate it all like spaghetti, it was delicious. Now I want dessert".
Her mouth began to tremble, as saliva seeped down the sides. She crawled closer to George and finally stood over him, baring her teeth and licking her lips.
George began to cry, he was so terrified that he couldn't even control his own body. What did it matter even if he did find the courage to run, he'd only get caught and killed before he had the chance to get anywhere meaningful.
Why didn't he just listen to his dad and stay where he was? Why didn't he stay with Charlotte?
"Daddy!" He screamed, as tears streamed down his face, but his pathetic cries only served to entertain the disturbed woman arching over him, as she laughed hysterically and drew the attention of three more of those things. He was dead, it was over.
"Don't devour him all yourself, you selfish bitch, we are hungry too!" One of them snapped.
George suddenly felt tiny, they towered over him and that alone was overwhelming enough without the added pressure of life threatening aggression from them.
He huddled as small as he could be into a ball and braced himself for the worst, but before he should hand himself over to his fate, a voice he couldn't have been happier to hear, cut through the silence.
"Get the fuck away from my boy or I'll shoot!" He dad snapped. George turned to see his father standing there with a gun in hand, although which type, George couldn't tell.
"Daddy!" He yelped out.
"Just stay there, kiddo, I won't let any of them touch you!"
"You'll what, cocksucker? Shoot us?" The one standing over George replied and burst into hysterical laughter.
"Get the fuck back!" His father warned again.
"Belligerent twat, fuck you! You won't do shit! Know why? Because you're a piece of shit cowardice cunt!" The woman screamed back at him. George had never heard so many swear words in his life, far less stringed together in such a creative manner. Never had he wanted for anything more than to get away from these people and return to his father’s embrace.
"Last warning! Get away from him!"
George's father had never physically harmed a thing in his life, far less killed anything, even the fight with Daniel was hard to be considered a fight, since only one of them had landed any punches, the other landed in a hospital bed, no awards for guessing which was which. It was because of this that it would be understandable he would be so reluctant to shoot without a second thought, even if his enemies were mindless now, they were still human.
"Who? Him?" The female creature asked, pointing towards George, "My prey?"
Terry took aim and tightened his finger on the trigger.
"Okay, you can have him", it obliged, taking steps backwards. Its suspicious behaviour was soon explained with the appearance of another one of them creeping up behind George's father.
"Daddy! Behind you!" George screamed. His father swung around and pulled the trigger just as it launched at him, blasting it backwards into a car. The surprising recoil also ejected the guns from his hands.
"Shit!" His father shouted, scrambling for it, before more crazy people pounced in his direction. He fired another shot from the ground this time, blasting the two assailants backwards, before taking aim at the remaining woman besides George.
She hissed at his father and lunged at George, just managing to scratch his face with her nails, before shotgun shells blasted her back
The shot was desperate, but reckless, having the potential to hit George in the process or even infect him with the splattering blood. Fortunately, the blood only reached his clothes and neck.
George was left frozen with terror, so it was not until his father ran over to him and cuddled him, did he snap out of his state of shock. He couldn't remove the image of that woman's eyes from his head, a madness masking sorrow and pain.
His father pulled him to his feet.
“I'm here now, it's okay, I won't let anyone or anything harm my kids. We need to go, lad. Climb onto my back and hold on tight”. His father ordered and George, still trembling, complied.
No sooner did George mount his father's back, those he had shot down began to rise again, despite sustained injuries that would render any normal person immobilized or even kill them, yet there they were, standing as though nothing had ever happened. If that weren't already enough to deal with, the gunfire had attracted more attention and his father wasn't prepared to stand around and find out the outcome of all that.
They tore through the streets, into alleyways and through shops, whilst being pursued by those with sole intent to kill them. Those crazed people flung themselves through windows and doors without regard for their bodies, ripping off skin and breaking bones in in the process, but getting right back up in order to continue the chase.
As they dashed into a Forward clothing retail outlet - for those who love high quality brands and reasonable prices -, George spotted an elevator, it wasn't much, but it could at least buy them some time.
"Daddy! In there!" George pointed. His father pivoted in place and made for the elevator. Pushing down clothing racks to slow down their pursuers, they stopped before the elevator doors to hammer at the button.
"Come on, God dammit!" George’s father shouted.
Behind them their pursuers, having smashed through the front glass panels, ran through the aisles, knocking down shelves and leaping over displays.
Finally, the elevator arrived and the doors parted to allow them entry. They dived in and his father slammed on the buttons to ascend the elevator, shutting the doors seconds before the crazy people slammed into them.
"What now, daddy?" George asked, a tremble in his voice. That was far too close for comfort and George wasn't sure how much longer they could keep this up. His heart was pounding and he wasn't even doing the running.
His father slammed the alarm button, halting the elevator in place and ringing a low tone bell. He then put George down and turned to him.
"Do you realise just how foolish that was? Do you realise just how close I was to losing you back there? Had your sister not called me in time and told me you ran off, I wouldn't have known you came to look for me and ret
urn for you, you would be dead, George! I told you to leave with your sister!"
"But daddy, I was scared and Charlotte crashed and...” George begun to reply.
"You should have stayed with your sister, made sure she was okay and got out together. I wanted to trust you could do that, now I have to worry about your safety with me. Your sister has her phone, she could have kept me informed as to what was going on and I would have told you both what to do. It's only by chance I found this shotgun on a CEU enforcer, if I hadn't, how would I have rescued you? We'd both be dead!"
"I'm sorry daddy", George replied weakly. His father sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Thank god you are both okay after that accident. Do you know if Charlotte is okay?" George shook his head. "God, I hope she is… but I'm glad you two are okay. Poor thing, you've experienced two traumatising crashes in a single day. Your sister was trying to run after you when she called, thank God she called, otherwise she could probably be killed coming after you".
"Is she okay?" George asked.
"Shaken up, but she's fine. I told her to leave by any means necessary and to keep well away from dangerous situations and suspicious characters, she will keep me updated by text. I also assured her I would find you and by stroke of fortune I did, healthy and alive, but the outcome could have been very different if I were even a minute later than I was. I should probably put her mind at ease". He pulled out Charlotte's mobile and texted Ria.
"Dammit, reception...” He muttered under his breath and glanced around their metal confines. "It'll send automatically when we get out of here. We should probably take our chances escaping from a different floor, those things are almost as intelligent as they were as humans, unless they have no head, somehow, they still move, but without direction or purpose... God only knows why I'm telling you this. The ones chasing us probably already ran up to the floor they saw the elevator going to, so we should outsmart them, escape this elevator and take a back way out. We have no other option, I don't have many shells left and I have a feeling we'll need them later. We're going to make a move, I'll need both my hands free, so I can't carry you on my back, you'll have to stay close".
Cryptophobia (Book 1): Outbreak [Fear The Unknown] Page 14
