by Aline Riva
Chapter 7
By the time Greg had returned to his suite, he felt as weary as he looked after Marc had caught up with him and they had discussed Flint's behaviour in low voices because Zodiac was asleep on the sofa. He had left his son to sleep on, then with a heavy heart had gone back to his room, closed the door and locked it, then took off his coat and slung it over the back of a chair. He glanced to the door to the bedroom and saw it was ajar. He knew Cleo was in there waiting for him. He had looked forward to taking her in his arms by the soft glow of the lamp light, but now he had other things on his mind – like Flint preying on Vicki...
He went into the bedroom and Cleo was in his bed. She was naked, he could tell by the way the sheets barely covered her breasts. He ached to hold her but he didn't, and one look at his weary expression made all the fire fade from her eyes.
“You look exhausted!”
“I am,” he gave a sigh and sat down on the bed, kicked off his shoes and then started to undress.
“Zodiac fell into the zombie enclosure – thankfully they didn't even see him. That's something my special boy can do, he's invisible to the enemy. Then he jumped from the roof and almost gave me a heart attack! He landed like a cat and got up and he was fine. I didn't know he could do that, either. And Flint must never know he has abilities,” he added, casting her a warning glance, “If he finds out, he'll want to use him for something, probably helping to trap more undead! He's insane, how did that man ever get to control this town? He keeps a horde locked up in that building behind the fairground, what kind of lunatic would put the town at risk like that?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know, Greg. All I do know, is that people are scared of him. They were scared of him before, but when the zombies came, they wanted someone scary to take charge. But I'm pretty sure most people regret choosing him as leader.”
By now he had stripped his clothes off and as her gaze wandered over his body, his expression softened.
“Sorry I'm so worked up. But I've got so much on my mind. And Marc and Parsons are going on the collection run tomorrow. I hope they're ready for it. We all know what it's like out there.”
She placed her hand on his arm.
“You guys have stuck together through a lot, you told me about the rig, about how you had to escape the island – I'm sure they will handle it okay tomorrow.”
“You're probably right.”
He got in bed and threw the covers off his side because the evening was warm. He laid there for a moment, his head sinking into the pillow as he wished his problems could evaporate as easily as this comfortable bed invited almost instant sleep, but he was too aware that Cleo was beside him for the first time and he wanted her, but he needed to clear the worries from his mind first.
“I'm waiting for it, Cleo. I swear, if Harvey Flint does anything else to threaten people I care about, I'll kill him.”
She turned on her side and swept her hand over his hair, their eyes locked and suddenly as he looked up at her, he felt his concerns start to drift. After a brief fling that had resulted in his son's birth, then a disastrous try at a relationship with Vicki five years later, he had all but written off his chances of ever finding someone in what was left of this crazy world. But Cleo was different, his heart and mind were in agreement, this woman wouldn't be the cause of heartache. It would be better with Cleo...
“I'm falling in love with you,” he said softly.
She looked back at him, her eyes wide with surprise and emotion, then as he pulled her closer he felt her heart pounding in time with his own.
“I want you so much!” he whispered, grabbing at the sheet and tugging it down, baring her flesh to the cooling sea breeze as it slipped in from the balcony. They kissed deeply with a hunger that only passion could cure. As she whispered his name he crushed her hard against him, knowing there could be no lingering moments or hesitation, they needed to be together.
He thrust hard, she welcomed him into her body and the cry she gave against his shoulder was all he needed to hear to know her longing matched his. Nothing mattered but this moment as he made love to her, claiming her body as she had claimed his heart.
It wasn't tender lovemaking, it was breathless and impatient and pure desire as their bodies joined together, it was bed-wrecking sex, by the time Greg had buried deep inside her one last time, the sheets were in a mess and hanging off the bed, a pillow was on the floor and as they separated they both rolled on their backs, gasping as the night air cooled their sweat dampened flesh.
“You still haven't showed me your scars,” she reminded him as she smiled. He laughed and gestured to his nude body as he lay there in the glow of the lamp light.
“Help yourself, Cleo...”
What followed was an unexpectedly erotic experience, as Cleo replied with a tender kiss, then began to trace a path of kisses all over his body, slowly heading downwards. She ran her hands over his scars, even kissed them. He felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he realised no one had ever done that so tenderly, not to the horrendous scars on both legs that had almost cost him his life after being bitten escaping the rig. But Cleo loved every part of him, even the old wounds... They eventually fell asleep together, exhausted and satisfied, embracing in the dark as the sound of the sea rolling to shore carried on the breeze.
The hotel was in shadow with only the lights at entrance still burning into the darkness as midnight came and went. The fair was empty, the circus was closed and the only sounds that could be heard as the lights of the fairground shut off were ghostly moans of the undead as remaining zombies were chained and dragged back to the storage building.
“I'll take that one,” Flint offered to a masked man who was struggling to grab at the chain of a lone zombie that staggered about the ring, lashing out and snarling. It was deeply discoloured, its clothing long rotted off, along with any parts that would have caused offense – it was a sexless creature now, its skin like leather and barely covering its ribcage. It snarled, turned to lunge, but as it staggered, Flint was too quick for it – the creature had not fed for a long while, they degraded in quality looking almost like sun dried meat if they went long periods without feeding. But this one would be fine to drag across the field, the chain was long and he could easily take it around the back and up to the suite where Greg and Cleo lay sleeping...
The masked man had thanked him for his help and left. Now alone with the creature, Flint walked out of the tent, letting the chain trail as he headed up the path, the zombie staggered onward, grunting and snarling in the dark as it grabbed at the chain about its neck, struggling in vain.
As Flint left the path and set on a straight route with the field in front of him, his sights were set on the hotel as behind him, framed by the circus tent lit by moonlight, the chained zombie staggered on. Hatred burned in Flint's eyes as the thought of Cleo in Greg's bed made his rage fire up.
“I hope you enjoyed it,” he said as malice glittered in his eyes, “You will both pay with your lives...”
The bedroom was dark save for the moonlight that cast silver light through the open doors that led to the balcony. The sound of the sea was louder now, the tide was rolling in and out as waves washed to shore carried by a strengthening wind. As Cleo woke with a jolt, she felt the chill of the night air and reached for the covers, but instead laid her hand on Greg's hip. She smiled as she turned on her side and watched him lying there bathed in moonlight. He was on his his back, sleeping soundly.
Then she heard something else, a strange, dry moan that was low and then a shuffling sound as if the soft carpet was being scraped, or something was dragging across it...
As she turned around, a shadow moved. She gave a gasp.
“Greg wake up!” she said loudly, and reached over and snapped on the light.
As the lamp lit up so did the rotted face of the creature that was leaning in close to her.
She screamed, leaping over Greg and startling him as he gave a yell. She jumped to
the floor as he rolled and hit the carpet, then the zombie lunged, throwing itself across the bed as it reached out with bony fingers and its jaw snapped.
“My gun...” Greg said urgently, diving to the floor again and reaching for his clothing and the holster that contained his hand gun.
The creature was across the bed and on its feet quickly, snarling loudly. Somewhere out in the corridor Greg heard Parsons yell Zombie, then there was a commotion as the others came out of their rooms. He heard running, but the creature was lunging at them. He raised his gun, then before he could fire, the lamp was ripped from the plug socket and smashed down on the creature's head. It slumped, hitting the floor as Cleo raised the lamp and smashed its skull again. The head cracked open, dark blood and brain matter spilled out.
“It's done,” Greg said breathlessly as he put the weapon down, “Cleo, stop -”
She smashed its head again and blood spurted up the wall and Greg quickly kicked his clothing aside to escape the spray. Finally Cleo dropped the lamp.
“It's dead!” she gasped, “Oh, that was so gross! Uurgh! I'm covered in its guts!”
Marc was trying the locked door, thumping on it and calling to Greg. He grabbed his boxer shorts and put them on, then pushed Cleo towards the bathroom.
”Get cleaned up,”he told her, then as she went inside and closed the door behind her, Greg stepped over the corpse and went to the door and unlocked it. The others were all outside, looking at him in alarm.
“What the fuck happened in here?” Marc said.
Greg reached for the light switch and turned it on, illuminating the bloody mess visible through the open bedroom doorway. Now anger burned in his gaze.
“It looks like he's just pushed me too far,” he replied, “Flint did this, I know it!”
A short while later Vicki had gone back to the suite next door to watch over Zodiac, who had woken up after a deep sleep. No one wanted that child to see what had happened – he had lost his sense of safety when the island had been over run, and so far, thought of Circus as a place where zombies couldn't attack.
Marc and Christian had taken the corpse and dumped it outside. Now Emma was downstairs with Cleo after waking the hotel staff, demanding a new suite.
The others sat in the wrecked hotel room, the door to the blood and brains spattered bedroom was closed, Greg was dressed once more and looking angrily to Marc and Parsons as Christian came out of the bathroom after washing his hands to clean off the stink of the undead, that body had reeked of decay. Then he went over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a scotch.
“Christ almighty, it's two in the morning!” Marc exclaimed.
”Starting early,” replied Christian, briefly raising his glass to the others and then knocking back the drink as he tried to steady his nerves. They had been in town for a matter of days and already, everything was falling apart...
Parsons and Marc were sat at the table with Greg. The three men looked at each other, all sharing the same burning desire to rid the town of Flint.
“We need to think of a plan – and fast, because this situation is rapidly turning to shit!” Marc said, “First you had someone break in the suite when Zodiac was alone, then Vicki was threatened – now you've had a zombie left in your room, courtesy of Flint.”
Christian poured another drink and looked across the room, his sights set on Greg.
“I know we've had our quarrels in the past,“ he began, “And we've been through a lot together, Greg. You're like a big brother to me. But it has to be said: If you'd kept it in your pants and far away from Flint's woman, he wouldn't have had a zombie planted in your room in the middle of the night!”
Greg glared at him.
“Firstly, Flint is a lunatic who kept Cleo like a prisoner! She's not his woman, not by choice! And secondly, it's not just me who is in the shit here – none of us have the option of leaving! You might be comfortable with your medical centre and your daily work, but you'd soon get a bullet in your head if you tried to walk out of this town! And thirdly, mind your own business, Christian! It's up to me who I want to be with, what's your problem, are you jealous? Oh wait.. you don't date, do you? I'm surprised you haven't been over to the zombie brothel! There was enough talk about you on the island when you had Lillith in the isolation room! What's your problem, are you zombie curious?”
“Shut the fuck up...” muttered Marc as the two men glared at each other.
“Zombie curious?” Christian said angrily, “I'm single because I haven't found the right woman! I'm surprised you haven't been to the brothel, all you need is a sniff of fanny and you're there like a ferret up a bloody flagpole!”
“I love Cleo! Seriously, Christian, shut your mouth before I really lose my temper!”
Christian was rapidly growing tipsy.
“You want to sort it out that way? Okay, come at me, bro...”
Greg laughed at him and then shook his head.
“I'm not hitting a drunk when I'm sober! Honestly, mate – get out of here! I don't want to leave this table and smack you in the face.”
“I'm not scared of you.”
“You're pushing me,” Greg warned as he tensed, then rubbed at the back of his neck, “Don't do this, I don't want to hurt you but I will if you don't shut the fuck up...”
“This is solving nothing!” Parsons fumed, then he looked sharply to Christian, who glanced down at his glass and muttered it was time for a refill. Parsons looked back at Greg, then to Marc.
“Let's have some focus on the situation, shall we? I spent the day with Flint. He showed me how everything works around here. He even showed me the storage area where they kept all the stuff from the days of the real circus – way back they had a few performing animals - and they still have the tranquilliser guns.”
Greg laughed off that remark as he shook his head.
“So you think if we shoot Flint with a tranquilliser once a day he might be easier to handle?”
“I'm just saying, it's another weapon. Guns are thin on the ground – they don't trust us enough to arm us. That pistol Flint gave you was a smokescreen. He just wanted you to think you could trust him. He's manipulative. We need to start playing the same game, we have to match that and go one better than him. I watched the acts in the circus. It's ninety percent zombie focussed but I saw a few stunts that were not. I know where they keep the guns too but the bullets are blanks. We could swipe the guns and then we just have to get hold of some live ammunition. If we all had guns we would stand a better chance.”
Marc shook his head.
“It wouldn't be enough. We need a plan. Think about this, what can we do to be one step ahead of Flint?”
Greg looked at Marc, then Parsons.
“There has to be a way...” he said thoughtfully.
Then the men fell silent, the only sound to be heard was Christian pouring another drink as they considered all they knew, and wondered if there was a way to outsmart Flint before it was too late.
In the morning, everyone was weary from lack of sleep except for Zodiac, who was full of energy as usual. The others had gathered in the hallway, then Greg noticed the doctor was missing and as he recalled their quarrel the previous night, an evil gleam came to Greg's eyes.
“Go and wake Christian up,” he said to his son, “Go and jump on his bed and shout.”
“Can I really?”
“Yes, go and wake the lazy sod.”
As he ran off towards Christian's room, Emma shot Greg a disapproving look.
“You didn't have to do that!”
“He deserves it. You didn't see what he was like.”
“I heard about all it – the pair of you verbally ripping into each other! You both know better!”
Just then Zodiac yelled Wake up to Christian, who grave a groan.
“Leave me alone, I'm ill!” he yelled back.
Greg smirked.
“Wakey wakey, piss head!” he called to Christian, “You've got a medical centre to go to and a job to
do! Do you remember last night?” Greg paused, waiting for a response.
“Yes and I'm going to work...I'm getting up!” he called back, “Please don't use Zodiac as an alarm clock again!”
Just then Zodiac came racing back down the corridor and he came to a sharp stop as he reached the others.
“Are we going back to the medical centre too?” he asked.
“No,” Greg replied, “I'm taking a car. You, me and Cleo are going for a nice drive.”
“But you don't have a car,” Cleo reminded him.
“That's why I'm taking one,” Greg replied.
Just then they all turned, silently startled by the sudden presence of Flint, who strode down the corridor flanked by two masked and armed guards.
“Your stinking pile of undead shit is outside in the trash with its head bashed in,” Marc said, “That was fucking low, Flint. You could have any woman in this town. Why her? Why Cleo? She doesn't want to be with you, she's chosen Greg!”
“Marc, the only thing you need to know – and you too, Parsons – is that I have taken you off the collection run today. I need you both over at the fair, where I can watch you closely. There will be consequences if you don't obey.”
“This is my fight, I can handle it,” Greg reminded his best friend, then he turned to Flint as Cleo looked on anxiously.
“She's not yours,” Flint stated, “You will return her by three pm or there will be consequences... unless you want to join me now, Cleo?”
He turned to her, holding out his hand. As she glared at him and stepped back towards the wall, Flint had a sudden spark of panic in his eyes as he recalled what he had done the night before... he still wanted her, he really did...
“Someone must have played a sick joke on you both. I would never harm you, Cleo. I'd have your boyfriend killed if he upset me, but not you! Please, you must believe me! I can persuade you to the truth when you come home later.”
“I'm not coming back,” she said in a hushed voice.
