The BIG Horror Pack 2

by Iain Rob Wright

  He looked at her over the top of his surgical mask. “Dr Clark? Can I help you?”

  She nodded. “I just got off the phone to Disease Control. We need to isolate this patient immediately.”

  Dr Bryce and his two attending nurses all shook their heads simultaneously and sighed. It seemed like something they had been prepared to hear. “Great,” said Bryce. “What are we exposed to?”

  “I don’t know. They just said to isolate him and ourselves until a team arrives.”

  Bryce wiped some sweat from his wrinkled forehead with the back of his arm. “Okay,” he said. “Let me get him sown up. He should remain stable for now, but I don’t see him recovering from whatever has gotten inside him.”

  Dr Clark frowned. “What did you find?”

  “His organs have liquefied. I knew there would be a story with this man. Let’s just hope we don’t end up in the same condition.”

  “I’m sure we won’t,” Dr Clark said hopefully. “He might have been the victim of a terrorist attack. He may not even be contagious.”

  “Guess we’ll find out,” said Dr Bryce. “I’ll let you know when I’m done here. You’ll be in your office?”

  She nodded. “I’ll stay there until you’re ready to enact quarantine procedures.”

  Dr Bryce nodded and got back to work.

  Dr Clark headed out of the operating room and back towards her office. Along the way she bumped into Brad, the floor’s security officer.

  “Brad,” she said. “We need to lock down this floor. Can you secure all the exits?”

  Brad raised an eyebrow. “Sure I can, but why?”

  “No time to explain. There may be an infectious disease in the hospital. Disease Control are on their way.”

  Brad seemed worried. His lower lip was quivering. “Infectious? How infectious?”

  Dr Clark sneezed.

  She blinked tears from her eyes and then sneezed again. Brad’s face was drenched with her mucus. She tried to stay calm as she spoke to him, but was already losing herself to panic. “I think it’s pretty damn contagious,” she said. Then sneezed again. “We have to get this place locked up now.”

  She ran off to lock all the doors herself.

  Brad, however, snuck out quietly while nobody was looking. He was still wiping the doctor’s mucus from his face as he headed across the car park.

  FAMILY MAN

  Brad hurried across the hospital car park while trying not to cause suspicion. His instinct was to run as fast as he could, but he didn’t know if people would be looking for him.

  There’s no way I’m staying in that cess pit with a disease on the loose. They don’t pay me enough for that.

  Brad knew he would probably lose his job, but when he’d heard that there was something loose in the hospital, a primal instinct had demanded he flee. His stomach ached, even now, at the thought of Dr Clark sneezing all over him.

  Dirty bitch.

  Brad wanted to go straight home, see his wife, but he didn’t know if the hospital would try to contact him there. He also needed to work out a way to tell his wife that he had just walked out on his job.

  He had a better idea and headed for the bus stop, hopped onto the 26 as soon as it pulled up. It was packed full of people and he was forced to stand up and hold onto an overhead rail. Luckily it would only be a short trip.

  While he was waiting, he smiled at a little girl with pigtails and bright orange bows. She smiled back at him for a while but then turned to talk to her mommy.

  Cute kid.

  Sometimes Brad wished he’d had a child, but he’d never earned much money and the thought of having to spend the little he did have on another mouth to feed was too much for him to consider. Deep down, though, it was probably because he knew he would make a lousy father. He didn’t want to ruin a kid like his father had him.

  The bus came to Brad’s stop and he leapt out onto the pavement. He was in a rough part of town; a housing estate full of low income housing and a dilapidated shopping centre. It would be frightening to most people, but not to Brad. He visited the area frequently.

  He headed into a small corner shop and nodded to the owner, who nodded right back at him, giving him the permission he sought. At the back of the store was a door. Behind it was a flight of stairs. Brad headed up and went through the door at the top.

  A familiar musky scent filled the air.

  Sandy was behind the desk as always. She seemed to work all hours. Brad headed up to her and smiled.

  “Mr Brad,” she said in her Nigerian twang. “What would you like today?”

  Brad took out his wallet and paid her £150 for the full works. He needed to de-stress in a big way. “Everything, please.”

  Sandy took the money and nodded subserviently. “You want Michelle?”

  Brad chuckled. “Of course.”

  “Second door on left.”

  Brad headed into Michelle’s room and was instantly aroused to find her lying on the bed in a black and red negligee. Her petit Chinese figure was as alluring as ever. The thought of penetrating her orifices was enough to make Brad forget all of his worries.

  “Hello, Brad,” she said seductively. “It has been a long time. More than a week, no?”

  “I’ve been busy, sweetheart. Never stopped thinking about you for a minute, though.”

  Michelle slunk down the bed towards him on her hands and knees. “You want my ass?”

  Brad laughed. “Let’s just start with a blowjob.”

  Michelle got to work. By the time Brad came, his semen was already infected.

  WET WORK

  Michelle had slept with seven men by the time her twelve hour shift had ended. She hurt all over.

  At least now her shift was finished. She intended never to have another one.

  I’ve finally taken as much as I can. No more sweaty men and their limp dicks.

  Michelle had been brought to England against her will and made to do terrible things. She had spent the last six years being treated like a possession, leant out for money like a power tool or lawnmower. She could take no more.

  At first she had resisted her situation, bit and clawed at the men until they beat her unconscious. But eventually she had broken, succumbed to their demands. The last couple of years she had behaved well enough that she had been allowed to live alone in a flat and go about her own business in the rare hours she was not working. That was why she would be able to do what she was planning to do. Nobody would know she was missing until tomorrow.

  And by then it would be too late to stop her.

  She went into the small kitchenette of her flat and switched on the kettle. A mug of black tea would help calm her nerves whilst she waited for what was to come. It might also get rid of her splitting headache and clear her blocked sinuses.

  Any minute now, I’ll take that last step and there’ll be no going back. It will all be over.

  There was a knock at the door. Michelle gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and took a deep breath.

  Here goes.

  She went and opened the door and let the man inside. He was tall and dark. Not what she had imagined. He was also wearing a suit, which she also had not expected.

  “Michelle Lin?”

  Michelle nodded. “Yes, please take a seat, Detective.”

  The tall man did as he was asked and took a seat on the worn, leather sofa in the centre of the room. Michelle went back into the kitchen again and made a second cup of tea. She brought it, along with her own, over to the coffee table.

  Her guest smelt strongly of aftershave.

  She took a seat on the recliner opposite the sofa. “You can protect me when all this is done, yes?”

  The man nodded. “Yes, we will keep you safe. We’ll set you up with a new life and you can forget about this entire chapter of your life.”

  Michelle grinned. The feeling of warm relief running through her stomach almost made her forget about her headache. “I am very grateful to you, Detective Marsh. You
are my last hope.”

  “And you are ours. Can you really help us bring down the Kahn prostitution ring? You have evidence?”

  “Not evidence, but I can tell you everything. Not just about prostitution, but drugs, too. Mr Kahn is into everything. I know exactly what and where; all of his movements, all of his clients. I can even tell you where his shipments come in.”

  Detective Marsh grinned. “With all that, Mr Kahn will ruined. You could expose his clients, humiliate them. The police could catch him red-handed with enough drugs to put him in jail for the rest of his life. You are positive you are prepared for all of that?”

  “Yes. I want to destroy Mr Kahn, and all of the sick, perverted men that make him rich.”

  Detective Marsh leant forward and took a sip from his tea. Then he just sat there on the sofa for several seconds. He seemed to be mulling something over.

  Michelle was feeling anxious. Her headache was getting worse. “I can tell you everything,” she said. “Just tell me when to get started. I know everything.”

  Detective Marsh stood up and let out a sigh. “No, Michelle. I’m afraid you do not know everything; but you do know too much.”

  Detective Marsh took out the black-market pistol that Mr Kahn had given to him and fired it three times into Michelle’s chest. The blood spatter that found its way onto his shirt was teeming with a virus that had made its way all the way from the Mediterranean Sea.

  LONG ARMS

  Detective Marsh took a shower at home and then headed right back to work. The police station was unusually abuzz and several of his colleagues were frustrated that they had not been able to get a hold of him in the last few hours. He’d simply told them he was busy.

  Busy killing a hooker.

  Marsh felt beads of sweat running down his spine. It was not a hot day and he wondered why his skin was so clammy. He put it down to the stress of committing a murder – his first and hopefully his last. But if Kahn had anything to do with it…

  Why the hell did I ever get into drugs and hookers? I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot.

  The dispatch floor was teeming with bodies as the telephone staff patched calls through to the relevant departments. It seemed like something was going on. Too many calls.

  Something’s obviously hit the fan.

  Marsh stomped over to the offices and headed for the Briefing Room. He’d had a feeling he would find several of his colleagues there, but he was surprised to find that half the officers on staff were standing inside.

  “Marsh! Where the hell have you been?” It was DI Winters, and she did not look happy.

  “Sorry, Ma’am. I was…otherwise engaged. What’s going on?”

  DI Winters shook her head and cursed. “Chris, will you take him away and brief him, please. We need to get moving.”

  Detective Chris Cox left the assembly and took Marsh out into the corridor. The first thing he said was, “You look like shit.”

  Marsh shrugged the comment off. “I’m fine – just a cold or something. What’s going on?”

  Chris shook his head and cleared his throat. “Nobody knows, really. Southampton General has been quarantined because of some super-bug. We’ve been hearing that people have gotten really sick, and that they’ve been attacking each other, as well.”

  “Attacking each other?”

  “Yeah. No one can make much sense of it, but some calls got through from within the hospital about an hour ago. There’s a group locked up inside that are claiming some of the infected people have gone mad and are trying to kill them. Winter is trying to figure out a way to respond without breaking the quarantine around the hospital.”

  Marsh was shocked. It had never been an ordinary day at the office, but it was getting even weirder. “Do we know what the cause is?”

  Chris nodded. “The World Health Organization have got involved. They’re saying something about that terrorist attack in the Med is responsible. They think some kind of virus got loose.”

  “Shit! How the hell did it make it over here?”

  Chris shrugged. “I don’t have all the details. We’ve been responding to so many calls that nobody really knows what’s going on.”

  “Why so many? Are the cases not contained to the hospital?”

  “Mostly, but there have been some strange calls from all over the place. We’ve been asked to help the NHS locate and detain any suspected locations of the virus outside of the hospital.”

  “What? What locations?”

  Chris sighed. “Whatever this virus is…it’s spreading.”

  Marsh flopped back against the wall. “I don’t want to get involved with any nasty diseases. That’s not my fucking job.”

  Christ, I just want to go home and get high. Smoke this day away into oblivion.

  Chris shrugged. “Our job is to follow orders, and right now it’s all hands on deck. I was about to help set up a checkpoint at the train station. Winters wants us looking out for signs of sickness in high traffic areas.”

  Marsh bit his lip and breathed out through his nose. “Goddamn it! Okay, I’ll tag along, but I swear if I catch smallpox, I’m going straight to the union for damages.”

  “You’re not going to catch smallpox,” Chris said, chuckling.

  But Marsh had already caught something far worse.

  WHISTLE-STOP

  Chris didn’t like the way his partner looked. Marsh was a hard-living kind of guy and would often come in with the tell-tale signs of a hangover, but today was different. No hangover could have made him look like the heavy-breathing bag of shit he looked like today, though.

  “You feeling okay?”

  Marsh looked over from the passenger seat and sniffed. “I’m fine. Must have been something I ate. Just stop gawping at me.”

  “Okay. Just let me know if you need to take off. You’ll be no use to me, sick.”

  Chris brought the unmarked police car into the train station car park and pulled it into one of the spaces. It was the middle of a weekday so the station wasn’t as busy as it could have been, which would make life easier.

  Especially if we have to lock the place down.

  “So what are we looking for?” Marsh asked.

  Chris turned off the engine and answered the question. “Sneezing, bleeding, sweating. Flu-like symptoms that progress to haemorrhaging and aggression.”

  “Christ almighty,” said Marsh. “What kind of maniac unleashes something like that on purpose?”

  “We don’t know anything right now. We just need to be vigilant. Better safe than sorry.” Chris opened his door. “Come on, there should be a couple of uniforms inside waiting for us.”

  Marsh started coughing, but he opened his own door and stepped out with Chris. The sun was beginning to go down, which gave everything a dull orange tint. Chris always found dusk to be a depressing time of day, neither light nor dark. It was the day’s limbo and easy to get lost in.

  Chris had to usher Marsh across the car park and towards the main building that housed the station. It was a medium-sized hub, consisting of six platforms, ticket office, and a row of shops and fast food restaurants. There was probably less than a hundred passengers waiting on the platforms. It would not be impossible to survey them all.

  Up ahead, two uniformed officers stood in their fluorescent yellow jackets. They recognised Detective Cox when he approached them.

  “Everything been okay here?”

  The larger of the two officers nodded. “So far so good. Haven’t seen anything alarming. The staff here have all been asked to watch out for anyone suspicious.”

  “Good,” said Chris. “We’ll take it from here.”

  The two police officers nodded and left them to it. Chris decided to get himself set up with a coffee before he got to work. “You want a drink, Marsh?”

  Marsh glanced at him. His eyes were red and bulging. His nose was running. “Yeah, cheers. Get us a tea; white, two sugars.”

  “Coming right up.” Chris headed off to the small coff
ee shop that served the station. There was no one else inside except for an acne-ridden barista. He placed his order, stood and waited. A radio hissed away from a nearby counter.

  Reports…mass sickness…Southampton General…police cordon…

  Chris shook his head. Things were obviously no better. His radio had remained silent for the last hour and he knew that it was likely because everyone was so busy. Nobody had time to check in with anybody else.

  Hopefully whatever it is has been contained to the hospital. If this thing spreads then the terrorists will have giant smiles on their goat faces.

  Chris had lost a distant cousin in the 9/11 attacks. He could not claim any great loss, but the loss of a family member – however distant – gave him a connection to the atrocity that perhaps others in the UK did not have. To them it had been a horror movie unfolding on the news. For him it had been real. Punishing evil people for their torment of others had been his driving force ever since. Drug dealers, abusive husbands…nothing was too big or small to elicit his concern. His role in life was to stop the bad guys, but right now it seemed like they had scored a victory. It made Chris feel sick.

  The barista came back with his order. He paid the young man and asked him a question. “Has anybody called in sick today?”

  “Nope. We don’t need many staff on during the week. Just me and the manager at the moment. He’s in the back.”

  Chris nodded. “Okay, just wondering. Thanks.” He took the hot beverages and headed back to where he’d left Marsh standing. His partner was still in the same position, but he was slouched like a bag of potatoes, letting all his weight hang downwards.

  “Marsh!”

  His partner did not reply.

  “Hey, Marsh. Get your head in the game, man.”

  Still no reply. Chris huffed and stepped around in front of him. He didn’t expect to see what he did.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Marsh snapped out of his daze and looked at Chris. His nose was leaking blood all the way down onto the tip of his chin. “W…what you talking about?”