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The BIG Horror Pack 2

Page 68

by Iain Rob Wright


  Joe put a hand on her shoulder whilst simultaneously pulling Danny against his hip. “Just calm down,” he said. “I don’t think they can get in at us.”

  As if to question his assertion, one of the monkeys smashed a fisted paw against the glass. Joe flinched and studied the area where the animal had hit. It was cracked, a delicate spider web of fractures snaking through the glass where the impact had struck.

  Joe swallowed. “Actually, maybe you should go ahead and panic.”

  “We need to move upstairs, right now.” Mason rushed across the room, clapping his hands above his head to get everyone’s focus. A door stood at the side of the room and he punched in a code on a square pad beside it. “Everyone, in here, quickly.”

  Without argument everyone raced to the door, passing through into the corridor beyond. Joe and Danny went in last, slamming closed the door behind them, hearing it lock automatically.

  Mason was waiting for them. “We need to move to the second floor before they get in.”

  Joe’s palms were sweaty and he wiped them against his jeans. “Will we be safe up there?”

  Mason was already moving again. “Something tells me that we’re not going to be safe anywhere.”

  Joe peered down at Danny, who was looking right back at him. Worry was etched across his delicate face and it made Joe’s heart twist in his chest. He tussled his son’s blond hair and picked him up onto his hip.

  Mason shouted back and told them to hurry.

  “Okay,” Joe said. The sound of breaking glass from the staffroom urging him to get moving. He caught up with the rest of the fleeing group just as they reached a staircase at the end of the corridor. Footfalls echoed as Joe took the steps two at a time. More than once he almost lost his balance. Danny’s limp weight in his arms didn’t help.

  At the top of the stairway was another lengthy corridor, carpeted in a cheap navy-blue pile and lined by numerous doors on both sides. Mason was leading everyone into the nearest door on the left. A bronze plaque on the wall beside it read: ZOOLOGICAL LIBRARY AND SEMINAR ROOM.

  Joe stepped in beside Mason to find a plush area, full of soft furnishings, chairs, and wooden tables, all facing forward toward a lectern at the back of the room near a large ceiling-to-floor window. The other three walls were interspersed with overfilled bookshelves and recently-used whiteboards. The musty smell of freshly-inked pages filled the air.

  “We need to barricade the door downstairs,” said Mason, “make sure that nothing gets through into the corridor.”

  Joe swallowed a lump in his throat. “I don’t fancy going back down there. It sounded like they were about to break right through the window when I started up the stairs.”

  The tattooed man, Victor, came over to them. “I’ll go,” he said. “Bunch of wee monkeys don’t scare me none.”

  “That’s very brave of you,” Joe admitted.

  “Aye, well it’s not your fault you’re a pussy.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “Excuse me? I have a son to look after first and foremost. I’ve already risked my life enough times today.”

  Victor sniggered and sauntered away, towards one of the room’s many desks. “Keep telling y’self that, pal.”

  Joe shook his head and put his son down on one of the cushion-backed chairs, then took the seat next to him. I’m not a pussy. I just have other priorities right now. Although, if someone doesn’t go down and barricade that door then we’ll all be in trouble. Maybe I should go…

  Victor dragged a table over to the doorway and the scraping sound against the thin carpet broke Joe away from his thoughts. He sat and watched the man grab a second table and upend it on top of the first, then drag them both into the corridor outside.

  “Can this situation become any more farcical?” said Randall, complaining again and as upbeat as ever. “A total disaster!”

  “Think I’d have to agree with you there,” said Bill, rummaging through one of the bookshelves. “Things keep going from bad to worse.”

  “We should be okay for now, though,” said Mason. “Victor is barricading the door as we speak and there’s no other way to reach this section of the building other than the staircase we just ascended.”

  “Shouldn’t someone be helping Victor?” Shirley asked.

  “He can handle himself,” said Randall. Joe was glad to hear it from someone else. “I’d be more concerned about your own hide and the situation we’re in, my dear.”

  Bill returned a thick text book to its space on the shelf and turned around. “And what situation are we in exactly? I still don’t know.”

  Grace offered an explanation. “I think things are…bad. I mean really bad. If this is happening everywhere then we could be in some serious trouble. There might not be anyone coming for a long time.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Randall.

  “I don’t think so,” said Joe. “I’m sure everything will work out eventually, but I don’t see anyone coming by to help us for a while. If animals are attacking everywhere then the whole country is going to be in chaos. I didn’t want to admit it at first, but I think we’re all stuck here.”

  Mason nodded. “We need to start thinking about settling in, planning for a couple of days here.”

  Randall slapped his hands down on one of the tables, startling everyone. “Unacceptable!”

  Bill put a hand to his forehead. “Seriously, man, you gotta wake up. This shit is bad and it’s time to forget about business appointments and brunch in the city.”

  “I need to get out of here. I am far too important to be missing in action. There are people who rely on me.”

  “Those people are probably dead,” said Grace.

  The suggestion seemed to hit home to Randall and he stood there silently, swaying back and forth slightly as his mouth moved in speechless quivers.

  “I’m sorry,” said Joe, “but that’s most likely true. I think we’re alone for now. We should just count ourselves lucky that we’re alive.”

  “Count yourself lucky,” said Randall. “I don’t see it that way.”

  Joe put his hands up. “Fine, but can you at least accept the situation we’re in?”

  Randall said nothing. He moved away from the group and sat down. That was fine by Joe. The further away the piggish little man was the better. He leant back in his chair and looked at his son. “You’ve been a really good boy today, Danny. Very quiet and well behaved.”

  “The animals are after us, aren’t they? They don’t want to be in cages no more.”

  Joe thought about lying to his frightened son, but found that he couldn’t. “Something has made them really mad at us,” he admitted, “but I’m going to look after you.”

  “Promise?”

  Joe smiled and said, “Ohhhh yeahhhhh!”

  Danny laughed hard. “Macho Man!”

  “That’s right. Anything that tries to hurt you will get the big elbow drop.”

  Bill and Grace joined Joe and Danny at the table, attracted by the noise. “Everything okay here?” Grace asked.

  “I was just telling Danny what a good boy he’s been.”

  “You’re telling me!” She patted Danny on the arm. “Not a peep out of this brave warrior.”

  Danny smiled. “Ultimate Warrior.”

  Grace looked at Joe, confused.

  “One thing to know about my son is that he’s obsessed with wrestlers from the eighties and nineties. I’m kind of hoping he’ll get over it.”

  “Where did he get that from?”

  Joe’s cheeks flushed red. “Me.”

  Grace giggled. “Nothing wrong with that. Better than being football-obsessed like most the guys I meet. I’m surprised you never ended up being a wrestler yourself, size you are.”

  Joe looked at himself and nodded. “I think that’s why I liked it as a kid. I was bigger than everyone else and I felt like a bit of an oddball, but every week I would watch these giants on TV being worshipped by millions and I wouldn’t feel so bad anymore.”


  “Maybe that’s why I used to like Culture Club,” said Bill, and they all laughed.

  Until the noise cut them off.

  A ruckus somewhere in the building. The crashing sounds of a violent struggle. It wasn’t until they heard the shrill shrieking of monkeys that it became obvious what was happening.

  “Victor!” said Joe. “The monkeys must have broken in before he had chance to secure the doors.”

  Bill leapt up. “We need to get that door closed.”

  Joe sprang up too. “Grace, look after Danny. Danny, I’ll be right back. Be good.”

  Joe and Bill swung open the door and ran into the corridor. The chaotic noise became louder as it echoed off the walls on their approach to the stairs. They could hear Victor screaming out insults.

  “Take that, yer wee bastards! I’ll break yer frickin’ necks.”

  Joe took the steps downwards, twice as fast as he’d gone up them – four at a time – the impact of every stair rattling the bones in his ankles. Despite his haste, it still felt like an eternity to reach the bottom. When he did, with Bill hurtling into the back of him, Joe wished he hadn’t.

  The monkeys were inside.

  Victor noticed Joe and Bill’s presence and spun around to face them with his back against the door. Thick scratches and ragged bite-marks covered his body. “Give me a bloody hand, will ya!” he shouted.

  Joe and Bill rushed forward down the corridor, gripping the edge of one of the tables that Victor had abandoned half way down. It was heavy and Joe wondered how on Earth the Scotsman had manoeuvred two at once. They slid the table towards the door, which was now being forced open by two-dozen sets of razor-tipped paws. Victor was pushing back as hard as he could, trying to force it shut, but there were four monkeys already inside the entranceway and they were all lunging for him. They bit and clawed at his tattooed arms and legs, shrieking in ecstasy as they drew fresh blood from his wounds. Victor ignored them and kept his concentration on keeping the door closed.

  Joe’s eyes stretched wide. The situation would not quite compute in his brain, but he knew that he needed to act right now, before Victor’s body gave out to the relentless mauling by the four monkeys.

  Joe prepared himself for battle. “Time to lay the smack down on your monkey asses.”

  He sprinted towards Victor.

  Chapter Seven

  Randall didn’t know who the hell they thought they were. Talking to me like that. I could buy and sell the lot of them, yet they speak as though I’m no one. He took a tug on his inhaler, enjoying the feeling of loosening lung tissue. When all this is over, they will pay.

  Randall had been sitting and watching from his position away from the group for ten minutes now, looking out of the window that ran the entire length of the wall. The view outside was unusual, to say the least, but it lent credence to what the others had all been saying. Things were indeed bad.

  The number of dead bodies scattered outside on the zoo’s various pathways must have numbered fifty or more. There were slimy morsels of flesh littering the area like grizzly lawn ornaments. The numerous corpses wore grim expressions of agony, as though their final thoughts had been frozen onto their torn faces forever. It was all very interesting.

  Obviously something fundamental in the universe had changed, gone off kilter. Only those willing to adapt would be able to cope with whatever lay ahead. Randall planned on being one of those people.

  There will be heroes born of this situation.

  The animals outside milled about with purpose and determination that should have been alien to lesser species. Grouping together, in what seemed to be a search and destroy mission, and sniffing out all corners for people who still lived – but there were no people left, as far as Randall could see, and their search seemed to be coming to an end. He watched curiously as a threesome of raggedy hyenas congregated next to what looked to be a pack of oversized housecats. There were many other creatures that Randall could not name, along with the many more obvious species that he could: animals like camels, zebras, and various species of deer. Wildlife had never been of much interest to Randall, and collecting animals together in a park, so that little brats could poke and prod at them, seemed pointless.

  Better to just put them down than enslave them. Especially the dangerous ones. People must be mad to keep a bunch of lions around. Just look at the situation it caused today.

  Randall lent over on his chair, tilting towards the nearest bookcase. He plucked a hardback book from the shelf and dropped his chair back onto four legs. There was nothing about this situation that Randall liked. He decided the best thing to do while he was stuck there was to learn a bit about the animals. Maybe then he could do something useful if they attacked again. He turned the first page of the book in front of him and started reading, oblivious to Victor’s screams that had just started from the floor below.

  Chapter Eight

  Joe could not believe he had just struck a monkey in the face. It had jumped up and clawed itself onto Victor’s neck and was just about to draw blood when Joe wound up and threw a heavy right hand. The blow stung his fist, but it hurt the monkey more. The primate lay unconscious now, on the floor, twitching and staring up at the ceiling like a punch drunk boxer.

  The other three monkeys were already taking its place and Victor kicked out at them as he struggled to keep the door from opening. "Get these bloody things away from me!”

  Bill came up behind Joe, pushing the table in front of him. “You help Victor and I’ll get this up against the door.”

  Victor continued to kick out at the monkeys in front of him. They hissed and swiped back at him with their blood-stained paws. Joe swung his leg at them, but they moved just in time and Joe found himself kicking his foot through thin air. He lost balance, swinging his arms to steady himself.

  A monkey seized on the opportunity and leapt at Joe’s arm as though it were a tree branch, clinging on with sharp-nailed hands and feet whilst at the same time wrapping its wiry tail around his bicep. Joe shook like crazy, but the animal stayed put, digging in even harder with its claws. Joe thought he might pass out from the pain, and only just managed to step aside as Bill came up fast with the table behind him.

  “Out the way!” Bill rammed the table up against the door. Victor had to leap up and over it before it pinned him. Once on the other side the Scotsman helped Bill push the table tighter against the door.

  Joe screamed out for help. “This thing is gonna rip my goddamn arm off!”

  Victor stomped towards Joe, covered in his own blood and with a look of pissed-off determination on his face. He deftly dodged the other two monkeys that blocked his path and made straight for the third, the one wrapped around Joe’s arm.

  “Bloody oversized rats.” Victor snarled and produced a menacing knife from somewhere on his person like he were performing a magic trick. “Time to get busy, Martha,” he said to the blade, then casually slit the monkey’s throat. The animal fell limply from Joe’s arm, hit the floor silently, and quivered as blood streamed from its body.

  Joe stumbled away, clutching his arm. Weeping gashes covered his flesh, but none seemed too deep to endure. He looked around the corridor and immediately spotted the other two monkeys who were still an active danger. “Quick,” he shouted. “We have to get them.”

  Victor shoved Joe back, holding his knife out in front of him. “You two get back upstairs. Me and Martha can handle it from here, no bovva.”

  Joe went to argue, but Bill put a hand on his chest and eased him away. “Let’s get your arm looked at. I don’t have the stomach for this.”

  If Joe was honest, he didn’t either. He avoided looking back as he made his way up the staircase. The wet stabbing sounds and animalistic shrieking was enough to turn his stomach inside out.

  ***

  Joe couldn’t stop shaking. Neither he nor Bill talked about what had just happened downstairs – how calmly Victor had brandished that knife.

  Did he call it ‘Martha’?


  I should be thankful of the guy, Joe thought. He did what no one else could. Probably saved my arm. Still, would like to know where he got that knife from.

  He must have been carrying it the whole time.

  Joe had a bad feeling, but it wasn’t worth worrying about for now. He re-entered the seminar room and sat down next to Grace. Danny, Bill, and Mason were there also. Randall and Shirley sat away from the group – Randall with his head buried in a book. Shirley gazing out of the window. Joe placed his hand on top of Grace’s. “Thanks for looking after Danny,” he said.

  She smiled. “I think he was the one looking after me. I was worried.”

  “Really,” said Joe. “Worried about me?”

  Grace’s cheeks went red. “Yeah. Bill, too, of course.”

  Joe nodded. “Oh. Well, we’re both okay, luckily.”

  “What happened down there?” Mason enquired.

  “There were some of those monkeys that got inside.”

  “Crab-eating macaques.”

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “They’re crab-eating macaques. If they’re the same ones that were at the staff room window, that is. Not usually dangerous, but a large group of them can get into a frenzy.”

  “Okay, well, these…macaques…had nearly gotten the door open when we got there. A bunch of them were already in the corridor. They were attacking Victor. Luckily we managed to get the door closed again. We secured it with some tables.”

  “What happened to the macaques that had already gotten inside?” Mason asked.

  Joe glanced at Bill, who looked away sheepishly. Joe didn’t feel the need to freak everyone out with the gory details or what Victor had done. “Well, erm…Victor sorted them out. Managed to grab them and throw them back through a gap in the door while we held it open a crack.”

  Grace was next to speak. “What’s Victor doing now?”

  Bill answered. “He’s securing the door some more. Making sure it’s nice and solid.”

  Everyone seemed satisfied with the version of events, so Joe changed the subject. “Do we have anything for my arm?” He looked down at Danny, who had put his head into his hands when he’d seen his father’s blood. He lent forward and whispered, “I don’t want Danny upset. The wounds look worse than they are.”

 

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