When There's No More Room in Hell 3

by Luke Duffy

  "What news?"

  "The news about what I and a few of the others will be doing with the aid of you and Joey."

  His eyes glinted as he informed her that she was about to be put to the test.

  Kelly's face tightened as she realised what he meant.

  "Oh," she said with trepidation, "so you need us to fly you somewhere?"

  Marcus nodded. "We have a few friends that have been outside the wall for the last four days and we need to look for them. I'm hoping that they're just taking cover somewhere, but if we can find them, then we need to bring them back."

  Kelly shrugged. "Whatever it takes to prove that we're on your side," she replied. "Just one thing though." She looked up at him with a serious expression and then broke into a smile. "I desperately need a hot shower and a good meal first."

  Marcus was about to reply when the front doors suddenly opened with a creek. Marcus spun to see what was happening and instinctively began to reach for his pistol.

  A short stooping figure came scurrying in, taking small shuffling steps and mumbling, as it stared at the ground. It was Johnny. He looked even more bedraggled than usual and seemed to be completely in a world of his own as he made his way towards the stairs.

  Marcus watched him with curiosity. No one had seen him since the nuke lit up the horizon, and many feared him dead.

  "Johnny," Marcus called out.

  The little vagrant stopped in his tracks, still mumbling to himself and staring at the floor. He did not look up or turn in the direction of Marcus' voice, and seemed to be counting something aloud.

  "Johnny, you okay?" Marcus asked from across the room.

  Johnny finally turned and looked up, his eyes searching the large open foyer for the source of the voice. His hair and beard were a tangle of matted strands, revealing just his eyes. They focussed on Marcus and he smiled broadly.

  "Yes, I am Johnny. How are you, Marcus?" he asked matter-of-factly.

  Marcus looked down at Kelly, a concerned look on his face.

  "I'm fine, Johnny, what about you? We've been worried."

  Johnny shook his head and smiled again, baring his stained teeth. He raised his finger and wagged it at Marcus.

  "No, no, my dear sausage, you don’t need to worry about Johnny. Anyway, I have been quite busy lately and the answer is five," he nodded at Marcus who stared back at him in confusion.

  "That’s right; five is the answer, on average," Johnny confirmed.

  He turned and began to make his way up the stairs, continuing his count as he went, completely oblivious to the bewilderment of Marcus.

  "Five what?" Marcus called after him.

  Johnny stopped and leaned over the balcony. "Hmm…?"

  The homeless man seemed to be in the dark as to what Marcus was asking; then he realised he had already given him the answer.

  "Oh, yes, five. That's correct, on average, of course."

  Marcus shook his head and put it down to the eccentricity of the strange man.

  "By the way," Johnny called as he walked along the corridor that led to the bedrooms, "someone has parked their helicopter on your lawn."

  "Who the hell is that?" Kelly asked as she struggled to come to terms with the strange sight she had just seen, and the completely incoherent conversation she had witnessed.

  "Johnny," Marcus replied with a shrug of the shoulder. "He's our celebrity tramp. He was pretty well known around these parts, apparently, before the dead began to walk. The man even spent a long time wandering amongst them, pretending to be one."

  "Jesus," Kelly rubbed her eyes, still unsure of the strange exchange she had just observed, and then drained the last of her coffee.

  14

  The sound of the helicopter was deafening, even from inside the house, as its engine howled and its rotors pounded at the air. The children, and even many of the adults, pressed themselves against the windows of the lobby. Their warm breath misting the cold windows as they crammed themselves shoulder to shoulder and peered out, speaking excitedly about the new addition to their band of survivors.

  Naturally, the children all wanted to take a ride in the aircraft, but for now they had to contend with helping Gary and Sophie with their rounds through the park as they checked on the animals. They watched with envy at the awe-inspiring machine, as the power of the engines and downwash created a gale around it strong enough to flatten the grass in a wide area around the aircraft.

  "Will we get to go up in the helicopter, Dad?" Sarah asked with glee.

  Steve glanced at Claire, her mother, unsure of what to say and how to say it. He stooped and held her by the shoulders as he peered into her large brown eyes.

  "I'm not sure if that would be a good idea, sweetheart."

  He saw the deflation in her face and sighed, as he knew that his simple answer would not be enough. He led her away to one side and out of earshot from the others.

  "Listen," he began in a reasoning voice, "I'm telling you this because I know you're strong enough to understand and handle it."

  Steve paused and watched her. Her eyes focussed on him and immediately, she had become an adult.

  She nodded.

  "We're surrounded by those things, Sarah. A ride in the helicopter would not be very enjoyable right now. I'm not particularly looking forward to it myself."

  The little girl with the ability to think in such a mature manner at times, nodded in understanding.

  "Okay, Dad."

  Steve kissed her on the forehead and ruffled her hair.

  "I'll tell you what; when we get back, I will ask Kelly if she will take you for a ride to the north over the animal pens. That should be fun, don’t you think?"

  Sarah grinned, a smile that stretched the entire width of her face. "Yup, that would be brill, Dad."

  She trotted back across to her mother and turned to grin at her father. She was excited and Steve knew there was no way she would let him off the hook when it came to his promise of a flight in the helicopter.

  Claire looked at Steve with a disapproving expression. He could only shrug in return.

  Steve, Helen, and Lee, were loaded down with all the ammunition that they could carry. Each had a rifle and their pouches were close to bursting point with the spare magazines. With the addition of the weapons and ammunition they took from the helicopter, they now had seven rifles amongst the group of survivors at the park, providing Stu and his men were still alive.

  Kelly, dressed in her flight suit and carrying her helmet, walked in through the main door. She looked at Steve and nodded.

  "We're ready to go, if you are," she announced as she gave him a thumbs up.

  She glanced about her and realised that everyone's attention was focussed on her. They watched her admiringly as she stood in her green pilot's uniform, making her feel a little self-conscious as a result.

  "Don't mind us," Jake said from the table where he sat holding a cup of coffee and grinning at Kelly. "It's not often that we see a pretty pilot walking about around here. In this day and age, you're a celebrity; bigger than the 'Beckhams'."

  Kelly smiled at him and turned to Steve, gesturing that they should go.

  Steve nodded and turned back to Sarah, still smiling at him as she stood holding Claire's hand.

  "We won't be gone long, kiddo," he said, smiling and ruffling her hair once more as he walked by her.

  A commotion behind him made him turn. Marcus was approaching, pushing the dishevelled and withered form of Stephanie before him. To the rest of the house members, she looked little different from the thousands of walking corpses that clambered at their walls.

  Her long greasy hair was matted to her face in thick strands, obscuring her pale and gaunt features. The filth-encrusted and tattered clothes that were made for a much larger person hung from her shrunken frame. Her gait no longer bore the confidence that she once walked and strutted around the mansion with. Gone was the assertive and overbearing woman that Stephanie had once been, only to be replaced with a coweri
ng wreck, shuffling gingerly with stooped shoulders and her face turned towards the ground.

  She avoided eye contact with the people that stood around watching her. Her whole demeanour was one of fear and uncertainty. Her shoulders trembled and she whimpered continually as she was pushed along by Marcus.

  Steve looked on in shock. He had seen Stephanie only in the shadows and gloom of her cell, her true appearance being obscured from him by darkness. He was well aware that she had been reduced to a glimmer of the woman she once was, but now, in the light of day and presented before him, he could see how delicate and unthreatening she had become.

  For a fleeting instant, Steve almost felt a pang of guilt. He had never been a cruel man or the sort to stand idle while others suffered, but before his composure deteriorated into one of regret, the memories of what she had done and the resulting deaths sprang to the front of his mind, hanging before his eyes, a stark reminder of the reasons for the woman's suffering.

  He clenched his teeth, staring down at the cowering Stephanie who seemed to have lost a foot in height during her incarceration. For a moment, he felt like snatching her away from his brother and dragging her back to the storeroom, and bolting the door shut until she finally died from malnutrition and infection.

  He looked back up at Marcus, remembering the agreement that they had all come to the night before when they had sat discussing the fate of the helicopter crew. It had also been decided that Stephanie would be released far away from the park, in an area where she could cause them no further harm.

  Lee had protested vehemently and stuck to his belief that they should feed her to the dead that surrounded their walls. It was only due to the influential objections of Gary and Jake that it was decided they would turn her loose.

  Jennifer, the ever-present voice of reason in the ear of Marcus when his rage and testosterone threatened to boil over, had managed to convince her husband not to go to Stephanie's cell and put a bullet through her head to end the discussion, once and for all.

  Kelly looked on in horror. She glanced from the bound woman being pressed forward by Marcus, to the people that stood around her, staring at the figure with hatred and the lust for revenge burning in their eyes.

  At first glance, Kelly had believed the woman to be one of the dead, kept inside the house for whatever reason. It was only when she heard the whimpers that emitted from within the mass of filthy rags that she realised the being in front of her was alive.

  In her mind, Kelly asked herself, 'What could this woman have done that was so terrible to make these people to hate her so much?'

  She looked to Marcus, questioningly.

  Steve noticed her concern and stepped across to her.

  "Her name is Stephanie," he whispered as he leaned in close. "She used to be a member of the group, and even worked here before all of this began. She tried to kill us all."

  Kelly's head snapped around to face him, as she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the foul image making its way across the foyer floor.

  "That's right," Steve continued, as he locked eyes with Kelly, "she and her husband opened the rear gate and let a bunch of those things in here. The thousands of dead that are now at our walls and surrounding the park…she led them here to us."

  Steve paused to allow the information to sink in.

  "She also sabotaged our fuel supply, which resulted in a couple of deaths when we went out to find more."

  "What are you going to do to her?" Kelly asked, stealing another glance at the wretched appearance of the suffering woman.

  Steve shrugged. "Turn her loose. We'll drop her far from here so she can't cause us any more drama. We've packed her a small bag of supplies that will give her a chance of survival, so it's all in her hands now."

  Marcus continued towards the door, and Steve, Lee, and Helen followed. Kelly remained watching them, deep in thought, then snapped from her stupor and headed for the entrance. She felt unsettled by the events she had just witnessed. A group of people that seemed so intent on survival and based everything on harmony, strong in their unity and care for one another, yet they were capable of such cruel and draconian punishment of a living person.

  She had no quarrel with having to deal with people that they viewed or had proved themselves as a threat in a harsh and unforgiving manner, but to keep them locked up and close to starvation seemed excessively brutal to her. Still, she was aware that she was new to the band of survivors at the Safari Park, and had not suffered the loss and pain that they had experienced at the hands of their prisoner.

  She decided that it was not her place to judge their actions.

  "And don't come back, you fat bitch," a voice called out from amongst the group.

  Lisa jumped forward and placed herself between the doorway and Stephanie. Her face was red with anger and her lips curled back, revealing her snarling teeth.

  "If it was up to me, I would feed you to those freaks out there," she spat. "If I ever see you again, you can bet your fat arse I will do exactly that."

  As a final gesture, Lisa swung her arm, palm open, and whacked Stephanie across the face. The sound of the slap resounded in the hall of the house, sounding like the cracking of a whip.

  Stephanie yelped and fell to the side from the force of the blow. Marcus caught her before she fell and pulled her upright, aiming her towards the door.

  "That's enough, Lisa. She won't be able to hurt any of us now. I promise, you won't see her again," Marcus said in a calm and reassuring voice but with a tone that warned Lisa that he would tolerate no further attacks on his charge.

  He placed his hand on Lisa's shoulder and gently steered her to the side, away from Stephanie. He felt no pity for the woman that had suffered at their hands for so long, but he did not see any reason to add to her misery by allowing the more aggressive and bloodthirsty of the group to exacerbate her condition.

  Inside the helicopter, Marcus placed the headset over his ears so that he could remain in communication with the pilot over the din of the engine. Steve, Helen, and Lee sat buckled into their seats with Stephanie placed on the floor in front of them.

  Marcus had decided that the doors of the aircraft should remain open to give them a better view and hope of finding Stu and the others as they followed their intended route. During the planning phase of Stu's task to find vehicles and supplies, he had given Marcus a detailed briefing of the locations they planned to travel to, including alternatives and the routes they would use.

  Marcus hoped beyond hope that Stu and his team were holed up somewhere and still alive.

  Over the past eight months, he had lost many friends to the rising of the dead, either directly or indirectly. Ian and Yan had been killed in battles with rogue military units and militia, as they had slogged their way from the other side of the planet. Sini had been lost because of his refusal to leave Sandra to die alone, and in the process, the tough Serb had saved the lives of Marcus, Stu, Jim, and Hussein.

  In Baghdad, they had said goodbye to Nicky, Eddie and Paul. Insurgents that had left three other members of their team dead, and wounded Nicky in an attack. Eddie and Paul had parted company with them because they lived on the opposite side of the globe, and teamed up with other men from New Zealand and Australia that were attempting to make a break out for themselves.

  Marcus reflected for a moment, wondering if they were still alive and if they had made it home. He closed his eyes, picturing them safe and well with their families, but he knew that the odds had been stacked highly against them and the chances of them both making it were extremely unlikely.

  The thought of losing more friends to the dead, and the circumstances that resulted from the new world, filled him with a dread that weighed heavy on his heart. They had been through so much together, and defeated every obstacle thrown against them, that Marcus saw it as a cruel twist if he was to be the only one remaining.

  Steve felt the helicopter rise beneath him, carrying him with it into the air as the pitch of the engine
rose and the beat of the rotor blades increased to a battering thump. He had never been in a helicopter before, and for a second; he grew with excitement before remembering the circumstances that had led to the moment, bringing him back to reality with an emotional bump.

  He looked across at Marcus, who was speaking with the pilot through his headset and studying a map that he held in front of him. Steve watched his brother in awe for a few seconds, feeling blessed that they had such a man to lead them. Although he had never acknowledged it in the past, he now admitted to himself that he admired the man that Marcus had become; an immense feeling of respect grew within him.

  Steve looked out to his left and saw the house shrinking beneath them as they gained altitude. He could see the people that had become a family to him, standing in the gravelled car park in front of the mansion, watching them take off in to the sky. Soon, they were so high that the figures on the ground had turned to little black specks, looking like ants in a model landscape with toy cars and a doll's house.

  The wind howled around them and blew in through the open doors from the downwash of the spinning rotors, creating a gale within the aircraft. Conversation would have been impossible due to the noise, so Steve occupied himself with watching the landscape below and the actions of the pilot, as she manipulated the controls of the machine.

  Kelly and Marcus were deep in conversation, obviously discussing the route and locations they needed to travel.

  Lee seemed to be enjoying the ride and remained close to the door, one hand clutching the buckle of his seatbelt and the other holding onto his rifle, as he leaned forward and watched the ground below. His wispy, mousey-coloured hair flew in all directions and he squinted at the cold, stinging wind that blew against his face, but he remained enthralled with the sights below as he studied his surroundings.

  Helen did not seem to be too eager to see the land below and the numerous dead that roamed the surface of the planet. Instead, she contented herself with keeping an eye on Stephanie, as she lay prone on the floor of the aircraft. She rested her head on Steve's shoulder and moved her body closer for comfort and warmth. She looked up at him and smiled, before kissing him on the cheek and mouthing the words that always made Steve grin like a child who had just been given the greatest present he could want.