The BIG Horror Pack 2

by Iain Rob Wright

  “Come on,” she said, ushering Mike to follow.

  They kept low and moved across the lawn, cutting a path through the sycamore trees. The man who had attacked Bradley was still lying in the grass. Once again she wondered where the woman was.

  “What do you see?” Mike whispered to her.

  “Nothing. I think it’s safe. I’ll go and close the doors.”

  “I’ll watch your back.”

  Anna gripped her steel pole tightly and made her way over to the doors. She listened intently, ready for the first sign of danger, and as she got closer, the odour of blood wafted through the air. She was grateful she didn’t have to go inside again.

  The sound of infected milling about in the depths of the building was a chorus of moans and mad cackles, but the foyer itself was empty.

  Anna stepped up to the door and grabbed the handle.

  “Look out,” Mike shouted.

  Anna stumbled backwards as the dead woman lurched out of the foyer and collapsed on top of her. Another woman joined her: the maid, who had finally got free. The keyboard swung from her neck by its cord. Both women were slow and clumsy, their skin grey and mottled.

  Anna staggered backwards and managed to slip free of the woman’s grasp.

  Mike ran up to help her but she shooed him away. “I got this,” she said. She gripped the steel pole firmly with both hands and held it like a pike.

  As the maid stumbled towards her, moaning and grasping at thin air, Anna shoved upwards. The tip entered over the dead maid’s heart and sent her reeling backwards. Anna put her weight behind the pole and shoved harder. She cringed at the wet sucking sound it made, but was surprised by how easily the steel passed through flesh – dead flesh.

  The woman didn’t go down. She clawed and grasped at Anna, even with the steel pole through her chest. It was as if the eviscerating wound failed to even register. Her friend, the maid clattered towards her at a leisurely place

  Anna yanked on the pole and tried to retrieve it, but it was stuck. The blood and leaking organs must have caused an airtight seal. Now she had no weapon to inflict an additional killing blow or defend herself against the maid. She did have control over the woman, though. She shoved the poled into the ground, still passing though the woman’s chest cavity. It broke the surface of the mud and delved into the turgid soil beneath. The woman slid backwards on the pole like part of a shish kebab and with one last push, Anna forced the pole deep enough into the mud to anchor the woman permanently. Then she span around just in time to grab the approaching maid around the back of the head and shove her down on top of her friend. She slid onto the spike belly first and ended up face down against the other woman, both of them pin to the ground.

  Mike stepped up to the two women and raised his shovel above his head, ready to deal with them for good.

  “Don’t,” Anna said. “I’ve seen enough blood spilt for one day. Just leave them there. They aren’t going anywhere.”

  Mike frowned at her, but slowly lowered the shovel and instead slammed it into the dirt where it stood erect on its own.

  Anna headed back up the steps to Ripley Hall and carefully closed the front doors. The sound of the lock catching was like an audible victory.

  “I don’t see any more of them,” Mike said.

  As if to disagree, a beastly cry erupted from somewhere in the zoo. Anna recognised immediately that it was not the sound of the infected, but something else entirely.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What is that?” Mike asked her.

  “It’s coming from further away in the zoo.”

  “Should we check it out?”

  Anna looked back at Ripley Hall. The doors were closed and the infected inside were oblivious. But if there were still infected people outside, wandering the grounds and park

  With adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Anna made a decision. “We need to know what we’re up against or we’re going to end up trapped inside the reptile house, no better off than we were.”

  Mike seemed to be in a similar state of mind and nodded grimly. “Let’s be quick about it then.”

  Anna honed in on the direction of the commotion – which was getting louder and more frenzied – and determined it was at the far side of the zoo.

  “What do you think it is?” Mike asked. “That sound. It’s horrible.”

  Anna had a suspicion but did not want to admit to it until she was sure. She recognised the noise, the calls. She quickly headed and made a beeline for where she suspected the sounds were coming from. The various animals in their exhibits were now awake, disturbed by the commotion. Pigs oinked and sheep yodelled anxiously.

  Anna gasped when she eventually saw the carnage.

  “Oh no,” Mike said.

  Half a dozen infected had managed to scale the walls of the orang-utan enclosure and were now attacking the primates inside. Anna watched in horror as Lily placed her baby in the elevated safety of the habitat’s mangrove tree, before swiping and hissing at the infected closing in on her. The male orang-utan, Brick, was rushing back and forth, clubbing the invaders with his huge fists. He let out a vibrating bellow with each blow, his animalistic rage overcoming him. As Anna stared harder, she noticed that he held a fist-sized rock in his palm and was using it to bludgeon his attackers. One or two of them he had already turned into pulp.

  Mike was shaking his head. “How do we help?”

  It hurt Anna’s heart to say so, but there was nothing they could do. “The drop over those walls is fifteen feet to the moat on the other side,” she said. “We’ll break our legs.”

  All of the infected in the enclosure sported broken legs, arms or ribs, depending on how they’d landed. Bones jutted from broken skin and blood leaked from a dozen places. Of course, the infected ignored their injuries – their ability to feel pain completely absent – and continued attacking regardless.

  “Do you think that’s all of them?” Mike asked. “If so then they’ve accidentally corralled themselves.”

  Anna frowned. “It’s strange.”

  “What is?”

  “They must’ve stumbled past a dozen animal enclosures on their way here, but they only chose this one to attack. They ignored the pigs, the birds, the horses.”

  “Maybe they only attack people,” Mike suggested. “Maybe orang-utans are close enough to confuse them.”

  The battle inside the habitat continued. Lily swiped and clawed to protect herself, but for the most part, Brick was the one keeping the infected at bay. He stood tall in front of his mate and bludgeoned the skull of any infected that came within range. A couple already laid dead, their brains spilling out onto the grass in glistening pools.

  Brick was coming off badly, though. A jagged wound had opened beneath the fur of his left shoulder, torn open by vicious teeth. Anna held her breath as an infected girl in a torn cocktail dress and broken stilettos leapt onto Brick’s back and chomped on his neck.

  Brick wailed. He managed to drag the infected woman off his back and slam her to the ground where her dress rode up and exposed her lack of underwear. Brick brought his bloody rock down so hard that it spilt the woman’s face in two.

  There were only three infected people left now; the most injured ones. One sported a broken femur, which stuck out like a branch. Another infected had two snapped arms hanging limply at his sides. Brick wasted no time in engaging them both.

  Once the enclosure was once again secure, Brick fell to the ground, wheezing. Lily began to sob as her mate languished in her arms. Now that the fight was over, his body had finally given in. His mighty chest heaved in great gasps of air and then stopped. The last spark of life drifting away. Brick had protected Lily and her infant bravely, like any human father would. Now that he was gone, Lily held him in her arms like a loving partner. Her pained wails made her grief plain to see that tragedy wasn’t exclusive to the human race.

  Lily hooted at her infant still in the mangrove tree and it climbed down to join her.

/>   Anna noticed the danger before Lily did and shouted out a warning. “Look out!”

  But it was too late.

  One of the infected was still crawling along on its belly. It snatched at the infant as it passed by and caught it by the leg. By the time the baby orang-utan realised the danger it was already to late to escape. The infected man sank his teeth into the infant’s belly. It squealed in agony.

  Lily let go of Brick and leapt into the air, clearing the distance between herself and her baby in one movement. She twisted the infected man’s head right around, breaking the neck with a vicious flick. Then she picked up her bleeding infant in her arms and rocked it desperately, patted its head, sniffed its face, and swung it to and fro.

  But her baby was dead.

  Lily’s wails filled the dawn.

  Chapter Twenty

  Anna knocked on the door to the reptile house and said her name. A few seconds later, Shawcross opened it. Inside, everyone was now armed with various rudimentary weapons.

  “Is it safe?” Shawcross asked her. “Are the doors of the house closed? What was all the noise?”

  “Ripley Hall is secure,” Anna reported. “As long as we all stay back from the grounds, the infected people should stay inside.”

  Shawcross seemed satisfied. “What about the zoo, the park?”

  “I think it’s safe. There were some infected people wandering around outside, but they’re dead now – dead dead.”

  “You killed them?”

  “Not exactly, but they’ve been dealt with, trust me.”

  “Then we should leave,” he said. “Find help, someone who can clear this whole mess up.”

  “If that’s what everybody wants to do, fine.”

  “We don’t know that it’s any safer elsewhere,” Mike said. “Back in the kitchen nobody could get a call through on their mobiles. And you,” he nodded at Shawcross, “put a call through on the landline when things first went bad. Nobody has come.”

  Shawcross rubbed at his temples and then stared at Mike. “So what are you saying? That we’re doomed? That nowhere is safe?”

  “I’m just saying that I don’t think we should take safety for granted. If we are okay here then we should stay here.”

  Anna put her hands on her hips and weighed things up in her mind. “You really think we should stay put?”

  Mike nodded. “We’re five-hundred feet above the ground, surrounded by woodland. If this thing – whatever it is – has spread, I feel much safer up here then going off to find help that might not even exist.”

  Shawcross tutted. “Nonsense. We need to report all this to the police.”

  “Not if it means dying,” Mike said. “

  Shawcross folded his arms. “We’re leaving.”

  Anna raised a hand. “Hold on a minute. You don’t speak for everyone. Maybe we should try to find out what the situation is down below first, before we get in our cars and set off into the unknown.”

  Shawcross growled. Anna noticed then that his slick, ginger hair was now neatly back in place, re-styled and orderly. Had he gone off somewhere to sort out his appearance? Was that what mattered to him right now?

  Someone else in the group spoke up to fill the tense silence. “I’m not going anywhere unless I know it’s safe.”

  “Me either,” said another.

  “I want to go home,” someone else disagreed.

  “It seems we’re not sure amongst ourselves,” Anna noted.

  “We should try to get some news first,” Mike said. “Find a television or some place with internet.”

  Anna nodded. “Good idea. There’s a small office block and a warehouse at the rear of the zoo, I’ve been there before. There are computers. We may be able to get something to eat there as well. I think there are snack machines.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Mike said. “I doubt we’ll be getting any sleep, so a bit of grub sounds like a good compromise.”

  There were murmurings of agreement at the mention of food. The thought of fulfilling a basic need was enough to re-motivate people and they all needed the energy boost.

  “Then if we’re all decided,” Shawcross said. “I’ll lead the way.” He brandished a thick branch that he’d probably taken out of a reptile exhibit and held it like a staff in front of him like he was Moses.

  “It’s your rodeo,” Anna said, not really caring. “Just try not to leave anybody else to die.”

  Shawcross shot her a scathing look, but quickly readjusted it to a warm smile. “Of course not, Anna. It’s important that we all stick together.”

  He headed for the door and stood beneath the fire exit sign, where he then looked over the group to make sure they were all ready. Then they set out.

  Outside, the day had become bright and clear, the air crisp and invigorating.

  “The offices are over there,” Shawcross said.

  Everyone kept to a tight formation, glancing around nervously, ready to run at the first sign of danger.

  Anna craned her neck to take in the eastern side of the zoo. She tried to make out what was happening inside the orang-utan’s exhibit, but it was too far away now to see. Her heart still ached for Lily.

  The group passed by the various animal enclosures before Shawcross stopped. “Okay,” he said, “these are the offices, just over there.”

  Anna had only been inside the cement office block a handful of times whenever she had needed to fill out paperwork for the zoo’s indemnities. As the head vet she had been required to make official reports on the welfare, conditions, and health of each animal.

  Shawcross pulled on the front doors but they were locked. “We’re going to have to break in.” He sighed. “I suspected as much.”

  Anna raised an eyebrow. “Break in? How do you propose we do that?”

  “I’m sure we can manage to break a window,” he scoffed.

  Anna looked around. The windows of the rectangular building were all thick, double-glazed, and not easy to smash through.

  “What you reckon?” Mike asked her.

  “Don’t know. We need to get inside, but I worry about making noise. What if there’s an alarm.”

  “There’s no alarm,” Shawcross said. “The park employs security guards. As long as we put the window out in with a single blow, it shouldn’t make any racket at all. We just need to find something suitable.”

  “How about that?” Clark pointed to a nearby vehicle.

  Anna recognised the large flatbed truck as being Bradley’s. It was parked next to a small warehouse, but the truck wasn’t what Clark was pointing at. It was what was in the flatbed that was important.

  Shawcross clicked his fingers. “Perfect. It’s going to be heavy, so could I have a volunteer to help me, please?”

  Mike volunteered.

  The stack of breezeblocks on the flatbed were perfect for breaking windows. Shawcross dragged one of the blocks to the edge of the truck and then he and Mike shuffled with it over to the building.

  “We could use a third pair of hands for this,” Shawcross said, growing red in the face.

  Anna hurriedly placed her hands underneath the breezeblock and helped the two men.

  “After three,” Shawcross said. “One…two…

  “Three!”

  They heaved the block into the air and watched it tumble towards the window. The glass cracked and gave way immediately, its pane splitting into several large shards and leaving the frame safe to climb through.

  “Come on,” Mike said. “Let’s get inside.”

  It was a typical office space, with cluttered desks and coffee-stained keyboards. Anna picked up a photo frame from the nearest desk and examined it. There was a woman with two young boys. Anna wondered if they were okay.

  “Hey, I just had a thought,” Clark said. “If everything is alright elsewhere then people should start arriving for work soon. It’s gone eight.”

  Mike shrugged. “I really hope so. I’ll give a kiss to the first person I see, but…”

&
nbsp; Anna nodded. “It’s a pretty big hope.”

  “There’s no way this thing isn’t happening elsewhere,” Mike said.

  “We should find a television,” Anna suggested. “Then we’ll know.”

  Shawcross led them into the building’s main corridor and raised a hand to keep everyone back while he checked the coast was clear.

  The hallway was empty. Whenever Anna had visited in the past it had been filled with people. It was eerie to see it now.

  “This is the staffroom,” Shawcross stopped beside a door then opened it and walked in.

  The room gave Anna a strange feeling of normality. The pool table in the centre was still littered with balls and cues where a game had been abandoned mid-session. An empty crisp packet adorned a cabinet. A forgotten coat hung from a wall peg. The room’s plush sofa felt inviting. Somebody had left a paperback on one of its cushions. The room had a lived-in feel and spoke not of the horrors that had occurred so close by.

  “Thank my giddy aunt,” Mike cried excitedly as he ran across the room to a pair of vending machines. He pulled some change out of his pocket and shoved it into the slot.

  “Is there a phone in here?” Charlotte asked. “I want to call my mom.”

  “There’s no phone,” Shawcross said, “but there’s a TV.” He plucked the TV remote from the sofa and pointed it at the modest flatscreen fixed to the wall near a corner.

  The news came on, loud and blaring. They hadn’t even needed to change the channel and search.

  Banners at both the bottom and top of the screen read: NATIONAL CRISIS IN PROGRESS.

  The anchorman providing the report looked mortified, not at all like the usual unflappable journalists of the BBC.

  “We are getting word from France that Paris has been declared a quarantine zone, joining other European capitals, Athens, Berlin, Brussels, Prague, Madrid, Rome, and of course London. Armed forces are forming a perimeter around Paris and there are suggestions from local sources that the UK Government is preparing similar measures for London and other major cities.”

  Shawcross shook his head. “This cannot be.”