by Aline Riva
Then as he felt the usual mad rush that told him he was no longer dampened down by the meds, he threw his arms wide and jumped from the slope, then swooped and rose along the path, in his mind he was free like the birds in the sky as he turned, then shot another wandering zombie and ran on, now picturing himself up there piloting a jet that was heading over the ocean as he looked to the path and the sea of green grass and imagined water. He made the sound of a plane engine all the way up the path, leapt over the felled corpse and went on. The retail park was in sight now.
Flint was flanked by armed guards as he made him way over to the hotel. He knew Greg was dead, but he wanted to see him dead, to see the devastation on the faces of the others as they mourned his loss. They needed him to be there, too – to serve as a reminder of who would always be in control around here...
He entered the hotel and took the stairs, went up to the next floor and went along the corridor, pausing by an open doorway to see Greg's body laid out on the bed. Zodiac was clinging to his father, sobbing as his face was stained in blood.
“I want my Daddy back!” he wailed.
Cleo stood there in Greg's bloodstained shirt. She had her gazed fixed on Greg, his eyes were closed and she looked lost, entirely devoid of all reaction, thought and feeling. She turned her head and saw Flint in the doorway.
“You won't win this one,” she said quietly, “He still has my heart. It's not yours and never will be!”
Zodiac was still weeping. Marc lunged forward with murder in his eyes as Parsons grabbed him and pulled him back.
“Don't,”he said firmly.
Marc began to weep and Parsons pulled him into a brotherly embrace.
“I'll come back tomorrow,” Flint replied, “By then I suggest you leave lover boy to be buried – he's covered in so much blood he'll start attracting the flies soon enough!”
“Bastard,” Vicki said as she stood beside Emma near the open balcony doors. Flint ignored her remark, then he turned away and left the room.
As evening fell, there was a sombre atmosphere in the hotel and it seemed to stretch over to the fairground too. The music played gaily but people were more subdued and there seemed to be less customers, too. Christian had remembered his promise to Greg. While the others were still over at the hotel he slipped away, headed across the street and walked up to the tall black painted building where the neon sign burned red into the fading light saying Zombie Girls. As he reached the door, a guard recognised him as the local doctor and surprise registered behind his mask. Christian forced a smile, knowing Greg would have found this hilarious... If only he had been there to see what was about to unfold...
“Doctor Wells,” the guard said, “I didn't expect to see you here.”
“Well I'm... zombie curious, if you must know!”
Oh, how Greg would have laughed...
He glanced back at the hotel, wishing he could catch sight of him on the balcony, alive and well. But the doors were closed and he could only guess at the conversation going on within after such a devastating and shattering day. He thought about the stupid quarrel he had shared with Greg the night before the shooting. His heart ached for his friend, then the guard spoke up again.
“You want to come inside, take a look around?”
He forced a smile.
“Yes please!”
The guard unlocked the heavy door and led him inside, then closed the door behind them.
“This way,” he was told, then he was led up a black corridor lit by dim spotlights, then through another door that the guard paused to unlock.
“This is the play room – the main space downstairs,” he explained.
Christian stood there, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the zombie women, they were mostly naked but one was wearing bondage gear, PVC straps that laced about a pale body. All the corpses were chained down to benches – some on their backs, others bent over tables with their legs spread. They all looked fresh, too.
“Don't you have any decaying zombies?”
The guard shot him another surprised look.
“You are a dark horse, Doctor Wells! The answer is no - but on the next run I can ask, if you want a... wormy one.”
“Are they secure?” he asked, trying not to think about the offer of the worm filled corpse.
“All chained down and their mouths are sealed – they have metal face plates drilled to the skull to keep the mouth closed and covered.”
He cast a glance about the room, seeing the zombies on their backs had silver metal covering their mouths, securely screwed into place.
“Got anything else upstairs?” he asked.
“Of course. Follow me, you really are a kinky one, Doctor! But I guess that's true of all the quiet ones... you'd be shocked if you knew some of the regular towns people who come here!”
They left the room and he closed and locked the door, then led him up a black stairway. At the top, the doorway was lined with colourful lights.
“Now this, is where the fun really happens!”
The guard went in first and Christian followed. The room was dimply lit with red lights, there were zombie women bent over in all positions and securely chained down. Every single one of them were recently dead. There was a naked zombie chained to a circle on the wall, in the circle was an X shaped frame and her arms and legs were chained to it. This one, unlike the others, had no face plate. She was upside down as her jaw snapped and a customer stood over her, masturbating furiously with his trousers down to his ankles.
“That's the snapper wheel,” the guard said, customers can spin it... depends where they want to...shoot. There's the added danger of the lack of face plate, too – but they stand behind the line, so no one's got their dick bitten off yet! So, which one would you like tonight?”
Christian thought about Lillith, how he had let his gaze wander over her body as she lay restrained on the lab table back at Wolfsheer. Yes, he had noticed she was attractive but that was only because she was so recently deceased, she barely looked zombie.. but this was different... the customer had turned the wheel and was now pounding into the zombie as she snapped and snarled, her teeth a fraction from his face. He pulled out sharply, turned the wheel again, sending her upside down, and shot semen into her snapping jaws.
Christian turned away feeling sick. There was only one way out of this...
“Oh... oh god no...” He gave a gasp as he pressed a hand to his groin, then he gasped for breath and looked at the guard with fake shame in his eyes.
“I don't believe this... bloody premature ejaculation! Please don't tell anyone I lost control...”
The guard patted his shoulder as he chucked.
“Come back tomorrow, try again. Have a few drinks first, it will help to delay matters.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Christian said, then he turned for the door and left the room.
As they headed back towards the stairs, he noticed another doorway.
“What's in there?”
“That's the bedroom,” replied the guard, and he opened the door to a room where the only furniture was a large double bed. Two zombie women were chained to it and both wore face plates.
“How do you get them in here?” Christian asked.
The guard indicated to a metal door on the other side of the room.
“We shut down once a week, take out the decaying ones and put them in storage. We keep the fresh ones behind that door. There's a room in there where we can chain them, drill the face plates and then bring them out and put them in position – or if it's a snapper for the wheel we just drag them out to the wheel and chain them up. It's very safe here. No zombie has ever got loose. If they did, there's armed guards on duty throughout the night. But the heavy doors and the use of the chains make escape impossible – remember they mostly have the face plates, too. So they wouldn't be biting anyone.”
“I'll definitely come again,” Christian said, then as the man laughed suggestively, he got the joke and laughed with him, feel
ing thankful he had put on a believable show of coming in his pants – otherwise he would have been left alone with one of those creatures and that guard would no doubt have checked on him to be sure he was okay with his first experience here...
Christian was glad to leave the brothel. The guard let him out as two guys went in and then the door was closed and locked again. Christian walked away from the building, breathing in the fresh sea air as the lights from the fairground blazed into the night. It was good to be out of that place. He headed back to the hotel, keen to tell the others all he had learned. His mission had been accomplished, surely that was the best thing he could do, as he had made that promise to Greg before the fatal shot - he had agreed to investigate the place. Now he had done so, knowing the layout would apparently be invaluable, although he was not sure why...
Morning came with bright sunshine. The world was still turning regardless of the shooting at the big top. The fairground was preparing to open, food was being cooked and the smell of it drifted off to mingle with the salted air fresh from the sea. Life was beginning to stir along the seafront.
Vicki watched from the balcony as Zodiac slept, he was on the bed, his head on his father's shoulder. Seeing the shooting had affected him deeply. Zodiac was still clinging to him and no one dared to wrench the child from his father as he pressed his face against his shoulder. Emma had cleaned up Greg's coat. It was now hanging up on the wardrobe, all trace of blood gone but the bullet hole was only too visible. His bloody clothing was gone, now he wore his spare suit and still looked very much alive as he lay there on his back, cleaned up and with his eyes closed, oblivious to the morning sunrise cutting through the window. Since the shooting a few local people had stopped by and asked Marc if they could help with the funeral arrangements. Later, Marc had told them, the boy wasn't quite ready to say farewell to his father...
As Parsons left the hotel and headed off across the field he paused, turned back and gave Vicki a wave. She waved back, then turned to the bedroom. Emma had entered the room, Christian was up and came in to say he was going over to the medical centre, then he handed the map he had drawn of the brothel to Marc, who was sat at the table and looked lost in his own thoughts.
“See you all later,” Christian said, then he left the room.
Emma was already gone, she was heading out to the farthest point she could go without being spotted, to a place where wasteland met with the end of the fencing far from the watch tower. It wouldn't be long before Alex would meet her there, and then she would see how well the plan had played out.
Vicki watched as Cleo leaned over Greg, careful not to disturb Zodiac, who was still sleeping. She placed a kiss on Greg's cheek and whispered that she loved him, and then she turned around, looking to Vicki with a hollow, lost look in her eyes.
“I put it back on,” she said, indicating to the shirt she wore over her top and jeans – Greg's shirt, the bloodstained one from the day before.
“Are you okay?” Vicki asked.
She shook her head.
“No,” she said truthfully, then she slowly walked to the door and opened it and went out into the corridor.
As Cleo reached the bottom of the stairway, she drew stares from the staff on the reception desk as she wandered in a half daze towards the doors, then left the hotel and began to walk up the street. The breeze blew her long hair back, her face was pale and her eyes were red from crying. Still she kept on walking, even as Vicki ran out of the hotel and shouted to her.
“Cleo!” she yelled in alarm, “Come back!”
Cleo turned, glanced at her and then turned back, walking on. A masked guard on the way to his post at the fairground was heading towards her, he stared at the sight of her in a shirt drenched with dried blood.
“Cleo?” he said, “Are you okay?”
She was trembling and tears filled her eyes, but there was a strange determination about her voice as she gave her answer:
“Flint's wrong. He will never have me. I love Greg... I always will. If you see Flint, tell that bastard this is goodbye. Tell him I'll be at the bridge.”
Then she turned away, walking off with purpose down the road that would eventually turn and lead towards the route that led to the broken bridge.
“Cleo!” Vicki yelled as she stood on the street outside the hotel and looked up the road, “Come back, don't do this!”
But Cleo didn't turn around again, she just kept walking until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight, now she was on the road that would lead to the bridge, the one place where she and Greg had shared precious memories...
Chapter 10
It had taken a while for word to reach Flint that Cleo had walked off , distraught and still wearing Greg's blood stained shirt. Flint had ignored three wake up calls after drinking the night before to ease himself into a deep sleep, Greg was dead and still Cleo was not by his side... But as soon as he heard the news, he was up and dressed and hurrying off across the field. One of his guards had offered to help but he had shoved him aside, saying this was between him and Cleo and no one else. He cut through the street beside the field, then went down another turning, then up the road that led to the turn off and the broken bridge. As he went uphill, his heart was hammering in his chest as he sweated heavily.
The guard had said, she was upset, she was going to the bridge. She was still wearing clothing belonging to Greg, still carrying his bloodstains... But Cleo was afraid of heights. There was no way she was going to end it all, she just wouldn't have the guts... She wouldn't dare to do that, he expected her to be hysterical as she sobbed for her lost love, she would scream at him, yell every obscenity over the shooting and say that she hated him. Then she would calm down, cry some more and give up and give in. It was the only way this could go, because in this town, everyone obeyed him and he would never let go of Cleo and she knew it...
As he reached the top of the hill, he saw her. She was standing on the ledge, the first ledge, closest to the ground. The wind was blowing back her hair and the bloodstained shirt and she was crying. He took a few steps closer.
“Get down from there!” he ordered.
She shook her head as the sunlight caught on her tear streaked face.
“I'm not coming back! I'm going to be with Greg and you can't stop me!”
“Greg's dead. This is crazy, Cleo! We both know you won't jump.”
She was shaking and sobbing and her face was pale as she took a step backwards on to the upper ledge.
“I said, get down from there!” Flint yelled, running closer.
She stopped him sharply with a warning glance.
“You wont stop me,” she said bitterly, “You killed the man I love! Now I'm taking the only thing you want to possess – me! You'll never have me!”
Flint took another step closer then stopped as he realised how near to the edge she stood. She made three careful paces backwards as her tear filled eyes met with his, then she gave a sob, closed her eyes and took another three steps. She was shaking so hard he feared she would fall by accident.
“Please come back... come down from there!” he begged, “I'll change! I'll make you happy!”
“I'm going to be with Greg!” she said defiantly as another tear ran down her face, “This is my choice and you can't stop me!”
Then she held out her hand, imagining the day when he had taken her to the edge. She pictured his hand in her grip, then him standing beside her. He had said, “Don't forget this moment, whatever happens, I want you to know I'll always be with you. I love you... I'm always there inside your heart...”
“Cleo! No!”
Her flat shoes took three unsteady steps back. She was right on the edge now.
“No! Don't do this, please!” he begged.
She was pale and tearful and shaking as she met his gaze. Then suddenly the look in her eyes changed to a spark of triumph and a devious smile played about her lips. She rocked backwards and leapt from the bridge.
“NO!” Flint yelled,
he ran a short distance then stopped, staring at the empty ledge, feeling crushed by death having its victory. For the first time he felt real defeat. She had defied him. She had won...
“CLEO!” he cried as tears of rage and frustration filled his eyes.
Then as he looked back, he saw a masked man coming over the hill. He turned from the ledge and began to walk towards the road to meet his guard.
But the guard was wearing a familiar coat, it was long and made of black leather and it had a bullet hole in it. The coat was open and beneath it the man wore an immaculate dark suit and as he strode down the hillside, the sunlight bounced off his polished leather shoes... He stopped walking, silently regarding the look of shock on Flint's face as he stood by the roadside staring in disbelief.... Then the man took off his face mask and raised a loaded gun. Now deeper shock registered as Flint realised Greg Fitzroy was very much alive.
“Cleo's dead!” Flint said bitterly, wondering why there was such a smirk of satisfaction on the face of his enemy.
“Cleo is on the motorway far below,” Greg agreed as he kept the gun aimed steady, “But she's not dead. Right now she's with Parsons. He's just helped her take off her safety harness!”
Flint's jaw dropped. Greg's smile got wider as satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.
“I was counting on you to shoot me yesterday,” he told him, “Otherwise I wouldn't have had the pleasure of seeing you reduced to a nervous wreck when she jumped. I win. I win, Flint!”
