Two men, dressed in leather jackets towered them, snarling at their faces. They held large silver wrenches; the wrenches must have weighed five kilos easy. A dull pain coursed through Harry’s back; he lay clenching his teeth. Sheila appeared to be ok.
‘Alive?’ One of the men scorned at Sheila. The man’s brow thick and his goatee unclean. Harry could see the jacket clearly now, it had an unflinching logo of a skull with a dagger through it - the hells angels of Beach Town, as they would say - Harry couldn’t recall much, his spine was in agony.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she yelled. The man got closer, the sun revealing thick and black hair. His hands wrapped in leather; his boots glistened.
‘Holy ghost, they’re alive,’ he said to the other wrench wielder who immediately helped Harry to his feet
‘Sheila, you okay?’ Harry asked. After being helped up he rushed to Sheila’s aid. She had a red lump forming on her shin which she avoided looking at.
‘No, I’m clearly not okay Harry,’ she exclaimed.
The two bikers stood swinging their wrenches like shopping bags. The day was getting more confusing, Harry didn’t know why the road was packed or the men attacked them, it wasn’t a normal day.
‘Just who the hell are you? We came to the hospital and this happens!’ Harry realised he’d lost his jacket in the ticket box, it was unimportant now. Harry approached the black-haired man, not too close, as he towered over him at six feet easily.
‘I’m sorry okay,’ he said to Harry. ‘We thought you were one of dangerous ones, the names Charlie, Kale.’ The man outstretched his hairy arm to Harry, which gave off a sickly scent of smoke, his skin tinged yellow. He was bearish, which couldn’t be held against him, after he said sorry.
‘Next time try saying something first,’ Harry replied, shaking the hand firmly, he had to wipe the sweat on his pants after.
‘In this situation, I doubt anyone will have time to speak,’ his partner replied. ‘Peter. I’m a close friend of Charlies, as you can tell.’ He went to give Harry a handshake, but Sheila grabbed his hand and dug her nails into his skin, grinning like a school kid.
‘Pleased to meet you, jackass,’ she tore her hand away.
‘Shit, take it easy, I’m sorry alright,’ Peter cried, his hand red.
‘Accepted,’ she replied.
Harry saw the biker’s rides near the main entrance doors.
‘My sons in there, I need to go find him,’ Harry explained. Charlie had a look disapproving concern.
‘No chance,’ Charlie replied. ‘Wait until the police get here, then go in.’
‘I’ve been waiting on the highway for an ambulance, it didn’t show, then I was told my son was brought to hospital, seriously ill, I’m not waiting.’ Harry walked off across the car park with Sheila limping behind. There were a few cars parked on curbs, everything appeared normal, Harry could not understand why they hadn’t sent an ambulance.
‘Wait,’ Charlie called out, jogging his gladiator body over to them.
‘You aren’t going in alone, I’ll come with you. Peter, wait here for the police, if anything happens just do what we said and run.’ Charlie led the way to the entrance, Peter hopped on an old station wagon, holding the wrench behind his head like a pillow.
‘So, what happened?’ Sheila’s voice trembled with pain as she walked. Charlie shook his head frowning. Harry at his side worrying for James.
‘Can’t explain it. We came in, one of our friends fell off his bike, ran down a girl. He came to the hospital, but when we came to visit him, he seemed…well, he seemed to have some sort of goo pouring out of his mouth.’ Charlie shivered a sigh.
They reached the open entrance doors; the lobby was empty with nothing but the sound of the white wall clock ticking and the lights and check in computers humming. A dreadful wave flooded over Harry. The receptionist desk ahead was deserted.
‘Was it green?’ he asked. Charlie whipped around eyeballing Harry, it unnerved him.
‘What? Have you seen this before?’ Charlie alleged.
‘Unfortunately, I have. Back there on the motorway, there were two dead guys, they both had green goo,’ Harry explained. Charlie went silent. They entered the hospital lobby area. Harry was nervous that it was empty, something was seriously wrong.
Sheila was pale and sat on the red leather lobby sofas.
‘What is it?’ Harry followed up, holding his hands-on hips like a manager interrogating his late employee. Charlie was swinging the wrench again. It must have been his thinking tic, because it looked to Harry like a kid swinging a doll or their parents’ arm.
‘I don’t know,’ Charlie said. ‘It might be an epidemic, you know?’
The lobby was unsettling because of the lack of people and the buzzing lights. Sheila’s bag rattled and echoed through the room as she searched it. Something was not right, and Harry sat next to Sheila.
‘I have no idea where James was taken, where do we start to look?’ Harry asked Sheila, who pulled out a small red lip gloss, twisting the top and applying it to her lips.
‘Third floor is the children’s admissions,’ she said, stashing her lip gloss back into her handbag. Harry admired her blouse that was drying, it entertained him to think she sweated as much as him. Harry got up and waved Charlie over.
‘Let’s go,’ Harry said.
The two men walked to the elevator left of the entrance doors. Harry thumbed the fading button and it beeped. They stepped into the elevator. Charlie went to push the first floor, but Harry pushed third floor before Charlie could and he grunted.
‘Gotta find your son, I get it.’
The elevator reached the third floor. It was quiet as they stepped into the eerie hallway. The elevator doors closed, and Harry felt left in the abyss.
‘Disturbing.’ Harry observed the shiny corridor that seemed a mile. Doors lined the corridor and piercing lights lit the ward. The administration or nurses’ desk in front of them was empty.
Charlie walked to it and peered at the workstation before walking around the side of it where he began routing through the loose paperwork. Harry joined him.
‘Look for last name Carrington.’ Harry sat at the computer, but it was locked. He tried the obvious password, password and then hospital children’s ward. The computer flashed an error box with wrong password in red. Harry began routing through the paperwork.
Gradually the paper began to have meaning. Charlie had ventured to the front of the desk, leaning on it and shaking his head. Harry read through endless medication lists and tons of names but couldn’t see James’s name.
Harry stopped routing, a second of waiting might help him refocus. It helped to find his keys and his phone, so why not his son. Harry opened a draw; they were packed with office equipment and some chewing gum. Looking through the nurse’s station files was distressing him, nobody showed up yet.
‘Dammit, we totally missed this sucker,’ Charlie chuckled like a gorilla. Charlie pointed his wrench at a white board on the wall next to the elevator door. It listed patient names and bed numbers. Bed five it listed Carrington.
‘How the heck did we miss that, come on let’s go.’ Harry got up from the swivel chair before beginning to walk off down the corridor. Charlie yanked his collar before he could get to the first room. They were going left from the elevator doors down.
‘Woah, what?’ Harry moaned. The yank made his back ache.
‘Be cautious, the hospital is empty, does this seem normal?’ Charlie set off in front. None of the patient room doors were open. There was a beeping pulsating from doors one, two and three. It sounded like the monitors had gone on overdrive.
Harry walked to door number four. There had to be patients and staff. Maybe the staff were on another ward. Harry investigated the window of room four, but the room was empty.
‘Jeez,’ he said. On the floor was the green goo, it was encompassed in a red slimy border resembling a giant cell.
‘Look at this!’ Harry said to C
harlie who looked in horror.
‘What?’ Charlie replied.
‘This shits everywhere, don’t go in,’ Harry said. ‘We don’t know what is it.’ Charlie walked off down to room five.
Harry looked in number five. Seeing the monitors flashing. There was no goo, so Harry gripped the cold door handle and stepped in. ‘Where is he, where is James?’ he asked himself. ‘Nothing.’ Harry slapped the white wall with his palm.
Charlie waited at the door but entered when Harry slapped the wall. Harry was angered and ashamed that he didn’t know where his son was or what the hell was going on. Hope drained from Harry. Replaced with the magnetic shudder of fear. The feeling you get when on a high ledge.
‘We have to move out, this place isn’t gonna tell you anything, come on,’ Charlie said, opening the door for Harry.
They stepped into the breezy desolate hallway. The cries of children sent chills down Harry’s arms. It was harmonic, there was a group of children somewhere nearby.
‘Shit, they are here,’ Charlie cried. Like wild dogs hunting prey, they both began to search for the cries.
They paced slowly down the empty corridor following the cries. The further from the elevators they were made Harry nervous, they didn’t know what they were against.
The crying overwhelmed Harry’s senses as they passed room eight. Charlie gasped pointing into the window of room twelve where Harry jogged over to. Charlie was white.
‘Damn, never been so nervous to find children,’ Charlie murmured.
Harry felt relief and without thinking opened the door.
The crying children stopped. The room had a stagnant odour of chemicals and rusty copper. Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand, Charlie did the same.
‘Why are they on the floor?’ Charlie asked.
The children turned, they were not children, they were adults. Hunched over in a circle looking like dolls. Blood and chunks of flesh dripped from their noses to their chins. On the floor in front of them lay a deceased boy. Mauled with his face torn off and tendons and ligaments pulled out like spaghetti.
‘What the fuck, let’s go!’ Charlie yanked Harry by his fear frozen neck and dragged him from the room. The adults screamed. The monsters drenched in flesh had stood and began a sluggish chase after them. Harry picked up pace, Charlie was ahead. They raced back to the elevator.
Harry hit the elevator button.
‘Shit, come on!’ Harry hammered the elevator button. The monsters coming closer. Charlie stood in a defensive stance. The group of blood drenched adults waddled along the corridor, blood dripped onto the floor and left a streak of red.
‘I told you this wasn’t a clever idea.’ Charlie leant down on one knee, as if in prayer.
‘What the hell are they?’ Harry whimpered. His thumb sore from hammering the elevator button. The beasts kept shambling closer. The elevator door opened.
Harry dived in. ‘Get in.’
One flesh chewing monster grabbed and hooked onto Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie jumped skywards crashing the wrench down on the creature’s arm and snapping it. Its cries were hawkish. The bones shattered like glass and the man stumbled at Charlie again.
‘Fuck!’ Charlie lunged the wrench round. The blow knocked them back which gave Charlie enough time to dive into the elevator before Harry pushed the lobby button and Charlie fell to his knees.
Harry’s neck flamed a sweat rash and his arms felt a ton heavier. What the hell had just happened? Harry felt panic.
‘They were eating that child god dammit,’ Harry whispered to himself. ‘The children!’ Charlie wiped the wrench with a grey rag he pulled from his jacket pocket.
‘Whatever I just saw, or you just saw, is for the police.’
‘What? You saw them eating that child,’ Harry said feeling lost.
‘You don’t get it; you saw me attack them.’ Charlie sounded anxious. Harry was an abiding witness.
‘You think I care about that?’ Harry pronounced.
Charlie pocketed the rag, got up and heaved Harry against metallic backing of the elevator and pushed the wrench to Harry’s neck.
‘Get off.’ Harry tried to push Charlie and his toy away, but Charlie overpowered him.
‘Good, cos if I hear about you mentioning it, I’ll fucking break your neck.’ Charlie gritted his teeth a millimetre from Harry’s nose. His breath salty like sea water.
‘Yes,’ Harry murmured as he felt his face lose blood.
‘Good.’ Charlie released Harry.
The elevator shuddered as it arrived at ground floor. Immediately Sheila greeted them with a smile.
Harry hugged Sheila, a wet trickle rolled down his cheeks, a heavy weight was lifted.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked her. Afraid of the fate of his family. Afraid the beasts upstairs had gotten to them. Over Sheila’s shoulder, he saw Charlie storm outside and flick his head around. Charlie began smacking the wrench against the concrete.
‘There’s someone stuck upstairs,’ Sheila said, pointing to the front desk. Harry let go of her, the hug felt good. He couldn’t remember the last time Molly hugged him.
‘Where?’ he enquired. His energy peaked.
‘On the screens, you know, the cctv. I think he’s a doctor, but he looks injured.’
They both walked to the front desk scurrying round to see the computer monitors. A set of keys with a plastic picture of a baby girl with bushy hair. That was someone’s child too. Then Harry observed the screens as Sheila clicked the mouse trying to bring up the ‘right’ monitor.
‘There.’ She showed Harry, who’s mouth dropped. He could see a doctor on the monitor, his leg wounded, and the floor pooled in blood.
‘We have to help him,’ Harry said. Charlie startled them as he popped up behind them.
‘Where’s Peter?’ Charlie demanded of Sheila. Harry knew he couldn’t defend her, but he knew she could withstand the violence. Ten years with violent partners toughened her, she told Harry on their drinking nights. Sheila never complained about it.
‘He said he wanted to let the boys know what’s happening.’ Sheila’s sarcastic tone lit Charlie’s face like a bonfire.
‘Bitch,’ he commented. Charlie then noticed the camera computer monitor. ‘Who’s that?’ Charlie’s voice softened.
‘Obviously a doctor,’ Sheila said.
‘Yes. An injured doctor,’ Harry added. ‘We should help him.’
Harry opened the draws which were filled with staples, tape and blue tac. Harry hoped to find a torch, something was better than nothing if more of those things turned up.
‘What happened up there?’ Sheila asked. Charlie sat on the desk, it creaked under the weight of his buttocks. He tilted his wrench, so the light shone in her eyes.
‘Watch it!’ she complained. Charlie rested the wrench on his lap.
‘I’ll tell you,’ Harry said taking Sheila’s hand. Their eyes met; Harry felt a fire that had been suffocated.
‘A child was dead, and staff were attacking him.’ Harry waited for the response; Sheila held eye contact. Harry felt sick to his stomach.
‘What the hell is going on here? Where are the police?’ she spluttered like a weeping angel.
‘They aren’t coming,’ Harry sighed.
‘Everyone knows that. When things go downhill, they are the first to leave town,’ Charlie remarked.
‘Nonsense,’ Sheila responded.
The computer monitors flickered. Harry grabbed the announcement mike.
‘We can help you,’ Harry spoke into the mike. His voice resonated throughout the hospital and the doctor became distressed at the sound. Charlie snatched the mike from Harry.
‘You idiot,’ Charlie snarled at Harry. ‘What if there are more of them monsters here and they here that?’ Harry felt frustration, James could still be here somewhere. Harry watched the screen and saw the doctor search his lab coat. The doctor retrieved a pen and paper.
‘He’s gonna write something,’ Charlie said. The docto
r wrote on the paper and then stuffed them back in his pocket.
‘Can’t see,’ Sheila said. Harry redeemed himself by holding the computer mouse and zooming in.
‘What the…’ Charlie murmured. Harry was stunned. It read like coal on Christmas and a slap in the face;
GET OUT, NO WAY OUT
CHAPTER 6
Fish Out of Water
The hospital was opaque in the sunlight. A polluted undercurrent of car fumes enveloped the neglected stone pavement of the ghostly car park. No sirens sounded yet nor had any other motorist from the motorway decided to venture away from their snacks as they sat and waited.
Crows circled the hospital diving into the thick surrounding brush for worms. There was an iridescent heat pounding off the metallic coatings of the remaining ambulances.
Charlie was leaning on the door of a jeep toking a roll up cig. The smoke snaked around his ears and dissipated into the indistinguishable fume cloud accumulating overhead.
The abandoned cars had a dead silence.
Charlie lifted his head back while holding the smoke in, before exhaling rings. He became distracted by a metallic rustle. Charlie scanned the car park with wide eyes. He choked spluttering on his hand and dropping and stomping the cig into the concrete.
Inside the entrance behind the desk Sheila and Harry were observing the wounded doctor still, the only other human they had seen in the hospital.
Charlie walked to investigate the sound, moving slowly towards the car park barrier, keeping an eye on the motorway turn off. He headed past the ticket box towards the motorway ramp. A metallic scraping scared Charlie and he jumped back.
‘Come out,’ he demanded. The wind picked up. There was a shuffling that made the crows overhead depart from the area.
Then a thousand footsteps pattered together, a herd of shambling green pus riddled motorists shuffled from the motorway turnoff like a pack of wolves. They horded together groaning and stumbling themselves.
‘Shit,’ Charlie said. Hastily Charlie began slogging it back through the barriers and across the car park. He panted and sweat flicked from his brow. He looked behind. The crowd was massive. Their bodies swaying as they continued to the bottom of the turnoff. Charlie’s gasped, slowing his pace.
Beach Town: Apocalypse Page 4
