The BIG Horror Pack 2

by Iain Rob Wright

  Something flew out from behind the theatre and stumbled into the road. Jeremy hit the brakes.

  Standing in the centre of the narrow side-street was a peeler – a victim of the plague. Whether it was woman or a man was unclear now, but the long, matted hair suggested the former. Jeremy gawped in horror as the figure approached with the shambling gait of a zombie, but this thing – this human being – was worse than a zombie. This thing was living agony, stumbling towards Jeremy like a nightmare made flesh. It was the worst case of the infection he had yet seen and the woman had not a single inch of skin left intact. Her muscle – and even bones – were exposed from head to feet. Eyeballs bulged from her glistening skull like gelatinous orbs of pus and focused on Jeremy intently. Her bleeding arms stretched out pleadingly, but she made no sound, perhaps incapable of doing so. Behind her was a trail of viscous fluids and spoiled meat. It was a miracle the woman was still alive, let alone able to walk.

  Jeremy put the car into reverse, planning to flee. He couldn’t help this person. Even if a cure was found, this woman was beyond the point of salvation. “I’m sorry,” he said out loud, then lifted up the clutch. The car began rolling backwards, away from the woman.

  She followed after him for a few more steps, seeming to lose more flesh and blood with every movement. So transfixed was Jeremy on the horrible sight that he almost didn’t see what was in his rear view mirror. He slammed on the brakes again. “Shit!”

  Behind him a military truck blocked the road where he had come from. A single soldier hopped out from the elevated cabin and landed on the cement with his heavy jackboots. The man had a scruffy beard and his sleeves rolled up past the elbows. The standards of appearance for the British Army had obviously been forgotten in the last week. It was hardly surprising.

  The infected woman was still coming closer, still reaching out her arms pleadingly. The soldier moved in front of Jeremy’s car and faced down the woman. He pulled out his sidearm, a mean-looking pistol, and pointed it forward casually. Then he let off a shot. A single bullet did the job, hitting the woman in her cheek and passing through her skull. Gore and grey matter painted the road, adding to the mess that was already there.

  Jeremy’s breath caught in his throat and he could actually feel his heart beating against his chest. He was not used to the sight of guns and he’d never before seen one used to kill another human being. Numbness washed over him that was probably the beginnings of shock.

  The soldier holstered his weapon and marched over to Jeremy’s window. Jeremy unwound it and quickly grabbed his ID card from where it lay on the dashboard. His hands were shaking.

  “Thank you, sir. Everything seems to be in order. Are you on your way home?”

  Jeremy stared out at the dead woman on the road and found himself unable to blink.

  “Sir?”

  “Huh? Oh, yes. I’m going straight home now.”

  The soldier seemed to notice Jeremy’s concern and knelt down to match his eyelevel. “It was for the best, sir. Like putting down a sick dog.”

  “A…a dog?”

  “It may seem cruel, but when the infection gets that bad, it’s kinder to just end it. A lot of them have started to lose their minds – who can blame them – but they’re becoming dangerous. If you see any more of them I advise you keep on going.”

  Jeremy swallowed. The soldier spoke about the infected like they were things not people, but was that really so surprising? Anyone with The Peeling was insane with agony and doomed to die – had any humanity still existed inside the woman now dead in the road?

  “You go on now, sir? Get moving.”

  Jeremy pulled the car back into first and headed forward, steering around the mutilated corpse of the woman. The soldier remained standing in the road and watched until Jeremy was out of sight.

  ***

  Stratford had become a military outpost like many other small towns with open areas. Further downriver, the waters teemed with gunboats, and the roads led to checkpoints in all directions. Cars and houses lay abandoned, while large fires raged in many open areas. Jeremy had a morbid realisation that the soldiers were building pyres and stacking them with the bodies of infected. The movement amongst the flames made it clear that not all the bodies were dead.

  What the hell was happening? In only the nine or ten hours since Jeremy had travelled to work, things had deteriorated to frightening levels. A police state was in effect and sick people were being quarantined and burned alive. Even the healthy were being caged inside their homes without compassion. Jeremy turned a corner, heading away from town, and saw a squad of Royal Fusiliers boarding up a house while frightened people tried to escape through the windows. A small boy actually managed to get free of the house and made a run for it down the road. A moment later the boy was dead, a rifle round between his shoulder blades. Jeremy couldn’t even tell if he’d been infected.

  Jeremy thought about his wife. Would he return home to find that she had been rounded up, too? Rotted away and thrown on a fire? The thought made his foot stamp down harder on the accelerator. Once he was home he would stay there until the very end, until it was over. What he would do then, he did not know. His life would go on whilst his wife’s would end. In many ways he envied her. The world going on around him was not one he wanted to be a part of anymore. In less than twenty-four hours things had gotten so bad that he dreaded to think about what just one more day would bring.

  ***

  The military presence reduced as he left the town centre and headed into the residential areas. By the time he reached his own house, it’d been almost ten minutes without seeing another soul. His home was dark, the windows shaded by closed curtains. The light had started to hurt his wife’s eyes and the lamps had all been left off since the night before. Her condition had been in the early stages then – he worried what she would be like now. The virus worked so fast, a destructive force akin to an invading army. The body’s skin and muscle cells got obliterated, one by one, helplessly succumbing to infection until they were nothing more than soup.

  Jeremy parked the car up on the curb and turned off the engine. He stepped out and pressed the key fob, locking the car. Then he started up his path and headed for his front door. Before he got there, though, it opened from the other side.

  “Hey, honey. I’ve been waiting for you to get home. It’s been lonely without you.”

  Kara hopped off of the doorstep and took Jeremy by surprise, planting a kiss on his mouth and slipping in her tongue. He pushed her away.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Everything,” he said, stepping through into the house while she followed. “Have you looked outside the window lately?”

  “No. I don’t want to know what’s going on out there. It’s too frightening. Is it bad?”

  Jeremy stared at her. “You have no idea.”

  Kara approached him and put her arms around his shoulder and planted another kiss on his cheek. “Well, as long as we still have each other.”

  Jeremy pushed her away again and sighed. “Kara, what are you doing here? Where’s your sister?”

  “In bed. She wasn’t feeling good so she went to sleep.”

  Jeremy thought about his wife, alone upstairs and suffering. He felt outraged at Kara. Did she not care? It was her sister, for Christ’s sake. He took a deep breath and fought to remain calm. “How is she?” he asked. “Is it bad?”

  “What do you think? Hasn’t that news station of yours found a cure yet?”

  Jeremy huffed. “They’re journalists, not doctors. And to answer your question, no. There is no cure. It’s killing everyone who has it.”

  Kara slumped down on the sofa and finally seemed to get a little more serious as concern etched itself across her face. Perhaps she did care about her sister after all. “There’s really nothing anyone can do?” she asked.

  Jeremy shook his head. “That’s why we need to look after your sister – my wife. Carol needs our love and support. We can’t fool a
round behind her back anymore. I’m done behaving like that.”

  Kara didn’t reply. She stared at the blank television screen as though the glass were a portal to another, more interesting life. Jeremy didn’t care to console her. He’d had enough of his wife’s younger sister. Once Carol passed on, she could leave, go back to her own place, and they should never speak again. If he was honest with himself, his wife was the only woman he had ever truly loved, and once she was gone, he was giving up on women for good.

  Jeremy didn’t want to waste any more time. The value of a second had increased exponentially since The Peeling had found its first victim – whoever that might have been. He placed his foot on the first step of the staircase and looked up. The second floor seemed miles away – another world, filled with horrors and regret. He began to climb, dreading what he would find upstairs. What pain would Carol be in? Would she cry out when he entered, or would she remain silent like the woman gunned down in the road? He was about to find out.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, he headed across the landing to the master bedroom, where he placed an ear against the door and listened. Silence. Without even realising it, his hand went to the handle and began turning it. A moment later, his legs carried him through into the bedroom.

  Carol was asleep in their double bed, the duvet kicked down to the bottom of the mattress. She was hot and the heat of her fever filled the room with a sweaty aroma. Her body was pale and smooth, but still healthy. Her face however…

  Jesus Christ!

  …her face was little more than a sinewy skull. Her jaw and teeth were utterly exposed, making it seem like she was grinning constantly. Her cheeks had worn away, leaving her eyeballs sunken beneath the thin, translucent scraps of her eyelids. Beautiful brunette hair lay disembodied on the pillow, no longer attached to her head. She looked like a corpse. Yet she breathed.

  “Sweetheart?” Jeremy approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her. If she was in pain, then it was probably cruel of him to bother her at all. But he needed to talk to her. It was time to confess his sins.

  Slowly, the tissue-like skin of her eyelids rose. Beneath them, his her eyes were as they’d always been: green and full of life.

  “J-Jerry?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. It’s me. How are you feeling?”

  Despite the mess that was her face, Carol managed a weak laugh. “My face felt like it was on fire earlier, but now I can’t feel anything at all. It’s…nice.”

  Jeremy placed himself down on the bed. The sheets were damp and bloody. He noticed that a patch of skin the size of a hockey puck had begun to rot away on her side. The smell was sweet and odious.

  “I’m going to be here for you now, my love. I’m not going back to work.”

  “I…I thought you’d been ordered to?”

  “Screw their orders. Besides, I don’t think they’ll be any orders left this time tomorrow.”

  Carol’s eyelids fluttered and it seemed like she was going back to sleep. Jeremy was prepared to let her, but was surprised when her eyes opened wide again and seemed completely awake.

  “My…sister was here.”

  “Kara? She’s downstairs. Did you want to speak with her?”

  She shook her head gently. “No. No. Just tell her…I forgive the both of you. I don’t want to die angry.”

  Jeremy’s throat clammed up, and for a second he thought he might choke. She had known all along? About him and her sister? Would she know that he had been planning to tell her everything? Had the absolution of confession been taken away from him now? Would it have even counted anyway? To tell somebody something on their deathbed was not brave. In fact, it was downright cowardly.

  “How did you know?”

  “She’s not exactly subtle, my sister – always here, sniffing around you. Doesn’t matter now. You can be together.”

  “That’s not what I want. I don’t care about her, or anyone else. The only woman I love is you.”

  She patted him on the hand. Her skin was soft, fragile. “I know. I know none of those women were anything other than sex to you. You disgusted me for years, but eventually I accepted that it was just your nature to be so…weak. I…I had my own fun in the end.”

  Jeremy stood up from the bed. “What?”

  Carol smiled. “I’ve probably fucked around more than you…these last few years.”

  “You goddamn whore!”

  “I’m not ashamed of it, Jerry. It was fun. You should know.”

  Jeremy backed away, towards the door. He could barely believe the grinning skull on the bed was the woman he’d been married to for twenty years. “W-why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because I don’t want to die with secrets, and…and despite everything I’ve always loved you. None of it really matters anymore, other than the fact we loved each other in our own way.”

  Jeremy lowered his shoulders and took a few breaths while he digested what he’d just heard. His stomach ached and he felt sick – but Carol was right. None of it mattered. He loved this woman and he wanted to be with her. He sat back down on the bed.

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  Carol took a long, laboured breath, and a sliver of skin fell from her neck, sliding away onto the bed sheets. “I don’t want to die…”

  “I know that, sweetheart. I know.”

  “…later. I want to die…now.”

  Jeremy looked at his wife, deep into her eyes – the only part of her that was still the same as when he’d married her. “What?”

  “I don’t want to lie here rotting away. I don’t want to feel the pain when my body begins to bleed. I’ve said all I needed to say. I’m ready.”

  “You can’t ask me to-”

  “You owe me.” She said the words forcefully, suddenly full of vitality – but it only lasted a minute before she seemed to deflate again.

  She was right, Jeremy told himself. He owed her many things. Their whole marriage had been marred by him abusing her integrity and violating her trust. What she was asking for now was dignity – a simple thing. The dignity of refusing to let the virus defile her body in the same ways that he had defiled their marriage. But he couldn’t kill her. No way.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t.”

  Carol stared at him. He couldn’t tell if she was angry. The facial muscles that would usually form expressions were all gone from her face now.

  “I understand,” she whispered. “Leave me alone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I have to go through this, I want to do it alone. I don’t want anyone watching while I die. If you won’t help me, then give me some privacy.”

  The last thing Jeremy wanted was to leave her alone. To die with no one around was be a lonely, helpless demise, but it was Carol’s choice, not his. He stood up from the bed.

  “I’ll check on you later,” he said.

  “No, don’t. There’s nothing you can do for me.”

  Jeremy’s heart felt like a weight in his chest and it was difficult to drag his body away from his wife’s bedside. They may never talk again. This was goodbye.

  He left the room without another word. Anything he’d said wouldn’t have been enough. Downstairs, Kara was still sitting on the living room sofa. She had switched on the television and was watching it intently. She showed no interest in his presence and did not ask about the state of her sister.

  “Carol is in a bad way, in case you were wondering.”

  Kara turned her head away from the television and looked at him. “Should I go see her?”

  Jeremy sat down on the sofa beside her, making sure to stay as far away on the cushions as possible. “She wants to be left alone.”

  “Okay.” Kara went back to watching the television.

  “Do you even care?”

  “Of course I do. She’s my sister. But there’s nothing I can do. I don’t want to watch while she rots away.”

  “Then why are you even here?”

  She stared at him a
gain and this time seemed very sad. “To be with you. I thought you cared about me.”

  Jeremy sighed. “I…I do. You know I do. But Carol is dying and it’s not right anymore. I’m sick of hating myself.”

  “She’s dying. We can be together.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t want that. The world is a mess. The last thing I can concentrate on right now is a relationship.”

  Kara stood up from the sofa and shook her head. She’d suddenly become very emotional. “You really want to be alone while the world dies around you? We need to look after each other. You need to look after me.”

  “What do you mean? You can look after yourself.”

  Kara wouldn’t look at him. She averted her eyes and stared at the wall.

  “Kara? What is it?”

  “What do you care? You’ve made your feelings clear enough.”

  Jeremy sighed and lifted himself off the coach. He went over and put his palm against her back. “Tell me what’s really wrong. You’re not this upset because of me.”

  She broke down in tears and buried her head against his chest. It was then that he smelt the same sweet odour that had come from Carol’s rotting flesh. He eased her away so that he could look at her. “You have it, don’t you?”

  It looked as though Kara wanted to speak, but was unable to. Instead she nodded solemnly and reached a hand up to her long, brown hair. She scooped it away from her neck and exposed the skin. Beneath her right ear was a blistering patch of skin.

  Jeremy bit at his bottom lip and almost drew blood. “How long?”

  “I noticed this morning. I came straight here to wait for you. I was hoping you’d know how to help me, that you would have gotten answers at the news station.”

  “How did you even get here? The military have the roads blocked up.”

  “I walked. I kept away from the main roads.”

  “You walked four miles through that hell out there?”