When There's No More Room in Hell 3

by Luke Duffy

  "Gary must've set the animals loose," Steve hissed as he watched the parade pass them by, their huge lumbering hulks moving slowly through the night as they began making their own way to safety.

  "Good luck," Jake whispered under his breath, hoping that the animals of the park could find a way to survive in the dead infested land.

  Another figure suddenly emerged from the darkness, much smaller than the elephants; it was walking directly towards them.

  Marcus raised his rifle and aimed at the man's head, ready to open fire.

  The man did not move like one of the dead, nor did it lurch towards them, growling and moaning. As the silhouette closed in, Marcus recognised Johnny.

  "Where have you been?" Jake asked in a hushed voice as he distinguished the familiar and dishevelled form of the eccentric vagrant.

  "I went to help Gary with the animals, sausage," Johnny replied in a casual tone as he stopped in front of Marcus.

  "Come on," Stu hissed, "we're getting out of here. We're overrun by those things and Gary and Karen are dead."

  Johnny sighed heavily and glanced down at the sodden grass at his feet.

  "That’s a shame. They were good folks."

  "Yeah," Marcus agreed impatiently. "Now come on, follow us."

  "Sorry, sausage, but I'm going with the elephants. I don’t really fit in with you crazy people and I'm not too fond of the Lake District either."

  Johnny turned and began to head after the herd of elephants and into the darkness.

  "Johnny," Jake hissed into the gloom, "Johnny, come back."

  "Be careful of the lions; I think they might be a bit hungry," Johnny replied from the shadows as a parting farewell.

  For a moment, the survivors of the park remained rooted to the spot, glancing at one another in disbelief.

  "It's his choice," Jim finally whispered from the rear, anxious to get away from the park and the house.

  "He'll be okay, now let's get going."

  The rain had stopped, leaving a damp and cold mist clinging close to the ground, drifting between the long stalks of overgrown grass that glistened with moisture. The track leading through the fields beyond the cliff was as Marcus had expected; a quagmire filled with soft, sinking mud and scattered puddles.

  The moon had made an appearance, peeking out from behind the blanket of dark clouds that threatened to open up with another downpour of heavy rain at any moment. Its ghostly light illuminated the field of mud and glistening high grass, giving Marcus the impression that he was staring at an old sepia or negative photograph.

  As the remainder of his group scaled down the cliff, carefully placing their feet and hands along the rungs of wood and rope ladder, Marcus pushed forward, slowly placing each foot in the squelching mire and scanning the track for any sign of movement.

  The moonlight reflected up from the numerous puddles along the narrow path, giving the impression that the passage was lit with floor lights, guiding them to safety.

  He pushed on, honing his senses, listening and watching for any sign of the dead in front of them. Stu patrolled carefully behind him, his boots making a light sucking noise with each step that he took.

  The grass to their left rustled and Marcus turned, his rifle clutched tightly in his hands and his finger gently stroking the trigger. His eyes narrowed as he pinpointed the position of the disturbance.

  The grass seemed to move in the opposite direction to which the wind was blowing. Something was moving just metres away from them, watching their every step and stalking them.

  He turned to Stu, about to give a signal when a howl erupted from behind them, to the right of the track. Marcus spun in time to see the pale wraithlike face as it closed on him, but he was too late to raise his weapon into the aim. His finger jerked on the trigger, a loud crack disturbing the silence and sending a round punching a hole through the chest of his attacker, but failing to slow its momentum.

  The creature was already on top of Marcus and he tumbled backwards as its cold hands closed around his throat. He let out a yelp as his feet slipped from underneath him and both their bodies tumbled to the ground, landing in the thick, freezing mud with a sickening slap. Both of them struggled with one another as Marcus fought to break free from the cadavers grip.

  Snarls, grunts and cries rang out in the still air.

  Stu raced forward, his feet skidding in the wet mud. He could hear Marcus screaming and cursing as he flailed in the mud beneath the corpse that was sprawled on top of him, groaning loudly, its jaws continuously snapping at his flesh.

  Stu made his final step, about to lunge forward to help his friend, when a blur shot from the long grass to the left of the track. A shape, large and pale in the moonlight, sprang from the undergrowth and leapt across the track. A deafening roar filled the air and, in a fraction of a second, it had snatched the corpse from on top of Marcus and back into the fields on the right of the track.

  Stu stood in shock, staring at the magnificent beast as it stopped and turned to look at him. It growled and stared at him, its eyes glowing as they reflected the moonlight. In its mouth, hung the limp body of the corpse that had attacked Marcus, the lion's teeth sinking deep into its throat as it kept a tight grip on its prey. With a final growl, low and lingering for a long time, it turned and headed deep into the long grass, disappearing from sight.

  Stu moved forward to help Marcus up from the mud.

  "You okay, mate?"

  Marcus climbed to his feet, brushing himself off but saying nothing as he recovered his mud spattered rifle from a puddle.

  On the track in front of them, caught in the moonlight, Stu saw a number of silhouettes crossing their path and skulking into the underbrush. Each of them stopped and stared at the men for a moment before disappearing, their glowing eyes sparkling like diamonds in the darkness.

  It was a pride of lions with a number of small cubs in tow, off to join in on the feast that the alpha male had just secured for them.

  "Fucking hell," Stu exclaimed, "I don’t think food is ever going to be a problem for that lot. Hey, you were just saved by a lion, mate."

  Again, Marcus said nothing as he checked his weapon and cleared the mud from the muzzle and bolt area.

  Stu watched his friend intently, his nervous movements jerky and rushed. His face was pale with shock as beads of sweat glistened on his forehead in the pale light.

  "You sure you're okay, Marcus?" Stu asked with concern.

  "Yeah, I'm fucking fine," replied Marcus, impatiently. He fixed Stu with a glowering stare. "Let's just get out of here."

  28

  The pounding and heavy thuds sounded distant, as though coming to her on the wind from miles away. Slowly, her ears began to focus and the noise of the hammering grew louder and more localised.

  Lisa groaned and raised her head from the cold tiles, feeling her face throb and watching the room spin as she slowly opened her eyes. Then, as she attempted to sit up, the pain in her ankle shot red-hot searing lightning bolts through her body, attacking her nervous system like a thousand knives.

  The agony of her shattered bones made her feel nauseous, making her head spin and her body grow weak. She looked down at her leg and saw the swelling immediately. Her ankle was twice its normal size, looking like a black and blue grapefruit protruding from her shoe.

  She whimpered and convulsed as another wave of pain flowed up through her body from her smashed ankle, and into her spinning and floating brain. She very nearly lost consciousness again but the echoing thumps and juddering bangs quickly brought her back to reality.

  She realised that she was inside the house.

  She was on the cold floor of the foyer and confusion swept over her like a blanket as she tried to piece things together.

  The loud noises continued to resonate around the room, but she could not understand where they were coming from or where everybody had gone.

  "Gary?" she called out. "Jennifer, where are you all?"

  No one replied from within the
stillness of the house and she began to feel abandoned.

  More noises drifted to her. Distant and muffled, but she could distinguish the sound of the helicopter's rotor blades, swishing and thumping through the air, and the screech of its engine. Accompanying the sounds of the aircraft, she could also hear the continuous rattle of gunfire, coming from above her, but from outside.

  "Someone, help me," she cried out desperately, her voice bouncing from the walls and drifting around in the spacious but empty room.

  "I can't walk, someone help."

  Something moved behind her with a loud scraping noise. She suddenly became aware, through the fog of her confusion and spinning mind, that the other thumps and bangs were much closer than the gunfire and helicopter engines.

  She turned, wincing at the pain as the movement jolted her leg, and looked towards the door. Piles of heavy furniture were stacked against the entrance to the hall and up against the windows.

  All were juddering under the impacts of dozens of assaults. The furniture was slowly being pushed aside, grinding against the tiled floor.

  She suddenly remembered; the gate had collapsed and the dead were in the park. Panic and terror assaulted her nerves and mind simultaneously, causing her blood to race through her veins, as she realised that the collapsing furniture and shattering windows was all that separated her from the hordes of flesh-hungry ghouls.

  She began to drag herself towards the stairs, whimpering to herself and pleading for someone to come and help her.

  A heavy crash behind her forced her to look back.

  The large leather couch that had been placed on top of the barricade tumbled to the floor, exposing the windows set into the inner doors of the main entrance.

  Lisa screamed involuntarily as she saw the rotting, gaunt faces of the dead pressed up against the glass, staring back at her.

  The sight of the living human, just beyond their reach, sent the swarm of creatures into a state of frenzy as their hands and faces battered at the glass. The panes shattered, sending sharp splinters flying through the air and clattering across the tiles as they landed. Faces, cut to shreds from the shards that remained embedded in the frame, leered at her, their skin lacerated and falling from their heads, exposing the white bone beneath. Their ravenous, yet empty dead eyes, focused on the lone woman as she crawled away from them and towards the stairs.

  Their howls of excitement erupted in unison, deafening in the space of the foyer as the chorus reverberated back and forth. They battered at the barricade with their bodies, and slowly it began to collapse.

  The door steadily separated from its frame, creating a gap large enough for the dead to force their arms through. They used their limbs as levers against the heavy obstacle standing between them and the living flesh beyond, forcing the gap to grow wider with each passing moment.

  Lisa reached the banister and dragged herself up, wincing with the pain from her broken ankle and holding onto the stairs for balance as she kept her damaged leg off the ground. With a yelp, she hopped up the first step, the impact of her landing vibrating along her body and jolting her shattered bones.

  Sweat poured from her body, through fear, shock and exertion as she began to slowly, and painfully, climb the stairs one excruciating step at a time.

  The dead continued to clamber at the barricade, shifting it further into the foyer with each thrust and expanding the gap between the door and the frame. The breach was now large enough to allow the heads and shoulders of the lead creatures to be thrust through, their bodies acting as wedges and forcing the breach to widen.

  Lisa was halfway up the stairs, her legs shaking and threatening to give from underneath her when she heard the crash of the barricade finally collapsing, and the groaning of the wood as the door was barged open.

  She glanced back, seeing the first of the snarling faces enter the foyer, their eyes locked on her as they lurched towards the stairway. Their moans filled the large empty room and their clutching hands reached towards her as they staggered to the stairs and began their ascent.

  Panic filled her every sense as she continued to drag herself from step to step, crying uncontrollably as she heard and felt the dead closing in on her from below. Their moans and snarls echoed in her ears, growing in volume as more entered the house. She could almost feel their cold, bony fingertips clawing at her back as she reached the final few rungs of the staircase.

  At the top, she pulled herself up, swinging her body around on the post supporting the thick, wooden banister. She looked down at the swarm of bodies that climbed up towards her along the stairs.

  A thousand dead eyes remained fixed on her with snarling, drooling jaws that snapped continuously as rotting legs carried them forward, hypnotised by the soft and warm living flesh that lingered just before them.

  Lisa's body shook uncontrollably as terror-filled whimpers fell from her throat. Her mind became overwhelmed with fear and her limbs almost froze, refusing to move any further as the dead closed in.

  She glanced to her right and along the corridor towards the door leading to the steps and out onto the roof. It was a long way and she knew she would never make it. The mass of converging bodies were too close and gaining ground by the second. They would catch her before she managed to make it half way to the stairs.

  Safety and protection from the others was so close, but in her condition, with a broken ankle and barely able to walk, they may as well have been a million miles away.

  The sound of gunfire continued above her and she looked up at the ceiling, pleading for someone to come and help her, but she knew that no one would arrive. She had been left and abandoned to her fate.

  The engine of the helicopter rose in volume, changing in pitch, and then began to fade into the distance amidst the roar of the battle that continued on the roof.

  The helicopter was gone, leaving her to suffer at the cold hands of the dead.

  Behind her, Lisa saw the door to Jake's room ajar and she turned, lunging towards the opening and crashing into the hard wooden frame. Her shoulder screamed at her from the impact, sending yet another flash of agony up to her brain and threatening to incapacitate her as her head began to spin.

  She gripped the frame of the door and pulled herself inside. Slamming the door shut behind her, she immediately dragged the heavy chest of drawers across to block the entrance. She heaved with all the strength she could muster, bringing the heavy furniture into position, and then dropped to the floor as her legs gave way beneath her.

  Within seconds, the door rocked and juddered as the mass of reanimated corpses arrived outside the room and began attacking the thick wooden barrier that they had seen their prey enter.

  With each echoing bang, Lisa cried and whimpered. Each assault against the entrance brought her closer to death and the feeling of helplessness left her in a state of fright that seeped into her every sense, overwhelming her.

  Her stomach churned with the feeling of dread and helplessness, and her body threatened to spill its contents upon the floor of the room.

  She climbed to her feet again and hobbled back, tears flooding down her cheeks and her hands clutched together in front of her chest as she shook uncontrollably, pleading with unforeseen powers to spare her from the horror.

  She no longer felt the pain in her ankle as she limped away from the door. The terror that filled her blood and soul was too overpowering and her pain receptors had become numbed from fear.

  She felt her legs touch the mattress on top of Jake's bed and her knees bent, dropping her down to a sitting position, where she remained, staring at the door and howling in time to the beating fists as she watched the frame splinter.

  There was nowhere left for her to run. She was trapped in the house with no weapons to defend herself, about to die at the hands of the dead in the same manner that she had lost her husband and children many months before, when the dead had first risen and begun attacking the living.

  Finally, her body, under the pressure of such pain and h
orror, lost control of itself. Her shoulders shuddered, her legs shook and grew weak, and a dark patch of urine seeped out over the bed below her as her bowels and bladder released their contents; her failing mind became overwhelmed with panic and fear.

  She remained sitting on the bed, dropping her head into her hands as she saw the lock of the door give way and the heavy chest of drawers begin to move. They were just seconds away now from crashing through her flimsy barricade, and she remained with her face buried in her hands, too afraid to look. She did not want to see their growling mutilated faces, the flesh hanging from their bones or their glazed dead and terrifying eyes as they descended upon her. She clasped her hands tightly to her face, not wanting to witness their gnashing teeth as they closed in around her soft flesh.

  She cried; her shoulders shuddering with each sob and her body trembling as the door crashed open.

  The dead piled into the room, moaning loudly as their ravenous eyes fell upon Lisa sitting on the edge of the bed.

  They staggered forward, their cold clutching fingers reaching out for her and grasping her clothing, pulling at her and tearing the seams of her jacket.

  More and more bodies poured through the open door as the first of Lisa's chilling screams rang out, echoing around the house from room to room as the teeth of the dead sank deep into her flesh. She felt the pressure of the sharp incisors burst through her tissue with a sudden pop, sending a searing, white-hot pain racing through her body. The jaws clamped shut, and then began to pull away from her, tearing a large portion of muscle and sinew from her upper arm.

  Her blood-curdling screams rang out, muffled in her palms as she fought hard to keep her face covered while the sound of her agony seemed to excite the dead even further.

  She remained curled into a ball as she felt the dead close in all around her, pulling at her, their cold flesh pressing against her own, their broken and jagged teeth tearing at her body while their rake-like fingers dug deep into her soft tissue.

  She writhed and convulsed on the bed, a pool of blood growing larger around her as more of her body was torn from her.