by Russ Watts
Terry licked his lips, gripping the axe in both hands. He was thirsty, nervous, and not relishing the task ahead. He desperately wanted to get Freya back, though, and stepped into the first room ahead of Javier. The screaming they had heard had stopped so quickly it had been impossible to work out from where in the hotel it came, and so they were searching room to room.
“Freya, honey, it’s Terry. Come on out.”
Terry’s eyes scanned the room for any sign of her, for any clue she might be hiding, but even in the gloom he could tell it was empty. He poked his head into a bathroom, and then advanced further into the room. The bed was still made up, and there was an unopened envelope on one pillow addressed to a Mr. Fuller. The hotel was tired, and it wasn’t just the stale air and darkness. There was an aura of sadness about the place. The carpets were thin, and the faded wallpaper was peeling back from each corner of the room where the damp had curled it up. The lightshades looked like they hadn’t been dusted since the Fifties, and the televisions were huge, old box sets that had long since outlived their use.
“She’s not in here,” said Terry plainly. “Next room.”
Javier tried the next room, but it was exactly the same. They took it in turns to go into the rooms first, and it was a process they repeated until they reached room seven.
When Terry pushed the door back and called for Freya, he heard a sound come from within the room. He paused and looked at Gabe. Raising his finger to his lips indicating that they should be quiet, he walked carefully into the room. The noise came again, a faint knocking sound, and raising the Pulaski, Terry stepped quickly into the bedroom.
Empty.
There was an open suitcase on the bed, and clothes were scattered about the room all over the floor. The telephone and lamp on the bedside table had been knocked over, and the television was in pieces. It looked like there had been a struggle.
“Freya?”
“She’s not here,” said Javier, getting tired of Terry’s theatrics. The man was not a leader. He was barely a man. As far as Javier could make out, all he had done for the group was babysit Freya, and look how that had turned out.
“In there,” whispered Terry pointing to the bathroom.
Javier stepped back, allowing Terry to take the lead once more. It seemed fairly obvious that it wasn’t Freya in the bathroom. She would’ve answered or come out. Whoever was in there was probably incapable of speaking, and Javier had no intention of finding out who it was.
Terry put his hands on the bathroom door handle. In the dimness he tried to catch Gabe’s eyes, wanting to know he had his back, but in the darkness all he could see were two dark spots where Gabe’s eyes should be. “One, two, three…”
Terry threw back the door, and it banged loudly against the wall. The creamy floor tiles were covered in blood, and there was a body in the bathtub. It struggled to get out, twisting around and around as Terry studied it. Red water sloshed around the body, and the smell was foul. The zombie’s hands and feet had been tied together, and it had rotted away in the cold water, causing the room to smell awful.
“Happy now? Next room,” said Javier.
“We can’t leave them like this,” said Terry. “It’s not right.”
“Not right?” Javier began to think it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if Terry had an accident in the hotel. “So finish it off then, and let’s get a move on.”
Javier watched Terry take a step closer to the bath. He raised the axe above his head, and then stopped. The body kept twisting and turning, unable to get out, and a clump of hair slipped from its scalp. It floated on the top of the turgid bath water, and Terry stepped back.
“I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Jesus, give me strength.” Javier snatched the axe from Terry’s hands and buried it into the zombie’s head. It stopped moving instantly, and Javier plucked the axe from the dead man’s skull. “Next room.”
Terry held out his hands for the axe, but Javier kept hold of it. “We don’t have time for this, Terry.”
“Yeah, but I need that. You can’t expect me to go into these rooms unarmed.”
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do,” said Javier. He walked out of the room, aware that Terry was following him like a lost puppy. Javier stood by room eight. The door was closed.
“Well?”
“Terry, stop whining, grow some balls, and get in there,” hissed Javier. “If anything goes wrong, I’ve got your back. It’s clear you don’t have the stomach for this anymore, so let me keep a hold of the axe. You can have it back outside. Right now we have to focus on finding the others. Standing around talking about it is only slowing us down. So…”
“So?”
Javier swung open the door. “So fucking get in there, and do what we’re here to do.”
Javier couldn’t tell if Terry was afraid or trying to summon up the courage to argue back, but either way, Terry began to walk into the room. Terry had lost the will to fight, that much was clear. It was as if he had lost the belief in himself, and if that was the case, then he was of no use.
“Freya, are you…”
Terry stopped when he saw two figures standing on the far side of the room. The drapes were open, but the window backed onto the rear of the property, and there was nothing outside but a dumpster and an empty vehicle. The two figures had their backs to Terry and were looking out of the window.
“Mara? Mrs. Danick. Thank God,” said Terry. “We thought…”
The two figures turned around, and Terry’s relief was replaced by confusion. They weren’t who he thought they were. They were women, but they were black and dressed in white maids uniforms. One had crimson stains all down her front and a ragged hole in her cheek that exposed her upper jawbone. The other, a plump woman, had a gaping hole in her neck, and Terry held his breath. He was frozen with fear, and his brain was deciding whether to fight or flee. When one of the women started advancing toward him, he made up his mind.
“Gabe,” he whispered, “give me the axe.”
“Not today, buddy.”
Terry swiveled on his feet to see Gabe behind him in the doorway, smiling. It looked like he was about to break out in laughter.
“What? Give it to me, quick!”
“This?” Javier held up the axe and shook his head. “Not a chance. Oh, and if you try to get it from me, I’ll shoot you,” he said, whipping out his gun. “I’ll only pop your kneecaps, that way these two hungry ladies will still get a good meal. How’s that sound? Anyway, good luck. This should be entertaining.” Javier saw that one of the zombies was about to take a chunk out of Terry. This was going to be a lot of fun. “Oh, and Terry, I’d turn around if I were you.”
“What? But…” Terry turned in horror and yelled, putting up his hands as the first zombie leered over him. Its teeth were poised, its mouth wide open. The dead woman was ready to take a bite out of Terry’s neck, and there was nothing he could do about it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Terry felt the first bite on his shoulder, and he screamed in pain as one of the maids took a chunk out of him. He whirled around, and tried to throw the woman back, but she had a good hold on him, and all he could do was crab-walk with her as she continued to bite him. He pushed her back, and they fell onto the bed together. The other woman joined them on the bed, and Terry held out his arm to block the other woman’s attack. Instead of her teeth sinking into his face though, they simply sunk into his forearm, and he cried out in pain again. Blood splashed onto the clean linen, and Terry started to thrash and buck, trying to throw off his attackers.
“Gabe? Please, help me. Please…”
The fat maid straddled Terry, and her rotting face buried itself in his abdomen. She clawed her way past his shirt, and then sank her teeth into his skin, ripping it apart until she found his juicy, warm innards. Terry kicked and fought, but she was too heavy to throw off, and the second woman kept nipping at his hands and arms as he tried to repel her.
Javier ch
uckled quietly as he watched them rip Terry apart. Eventually Terry began to struggle less, and when the fat maid began chewing on his neck, Terry went limp. His head rolled to the side, and Javier could sense Terry was looking at him as he passed. Terry feebly reached out an arm toward him, his hand open, tears rolling from his glassy eyes, and then he was gone.
Satisfied that the two cleaning maids had done his work for him, Javier retreated from the room and silently closed the door. All he could hear from within the room was the sound of wet lips smacking together and the cracking sound of bones being broken. It was a noise he was comfortable with, something that had become part of the new world. There were lots of things that he had grown used to over time, and one of those things was Rose. He would give her another couple of minutes, but if she hadn’t surfaced by then, it might be time to call it quits. There was a growing army out there, and he wasn’t about to let it, or anything else, come between him and Diego.
Javier yawned and realized there was only one more room left on the ground floor they hadn’t checked. He looked at the axe that he now carried, the one that Hamsikker had told them was a Pulaski, and admired the weight in his hand. The blade was still exceptionally sharp, and it would do the job just fine. Javier strolled confidently down the dim corridor.
“Rose, you here? Rose?”
Javier kicked open the last door, but the room was empty. Javier sat down on the bed and bent down to open the mini fridge beneath the rickety wooden desk. It had no power, and the contents were cold, but it was still stocked, and he pulled out a green and gold can. As he sat on the bed sipping the warm beer, he listened. There were faint noises coming from within the building above him, probably the others wandering around. Maybe he should call it quits. The beer, though warm, was good, and he hadn’t been able to relax in a while. It was all getting too messy. He had thought he could control them all, fashion them into some sort of cohesive unit who would fight for him, but in reality he despised them. He was already fed up of wasting his time on them, and now he was running around a deserted hotel looking for a kid and an old woman?
As he sat there contemplating his next move, the valance beneath his feet began to stir, and he spread his feet apart. He watched curiously as a snake came out from under the bed, slowly drifting across the floor, and it wound its way around Javier’s feet. Its body was thin, perhaps a foot in length, and covered in light brown scales. Javier wasn’t too familiar with snakes, but he figured it was probably just hungry, and it was best not to take a chance. He bent down and scooped it up, grasping it behind the head carefully.
The Eastern Milk snake eyed him cautiously.
“You lost too?” Javier looked into the snake’s dark eyes, seeing himself reflected there. “You’re not going to find much to eat in here, buddy, unless you like peanuts and warm beer.”
He could snap the snake’s neck, but the snake wasn’t doing any harm. It was on its own, just looking for food, perhaps trying to find a mate or a nest.
Javier placed the snake carefully back on the floor, and it slithered back under the bed instantly.
“Good luck.” Javier crushed the empty can in his hands and threw it aside.
“Fuck it,” he said, and he left the room, heading back down the corridor to the entrance. There was no point heading upstairs. Hamsikker and Erik had that covered, but there were still a couple of doors on the other side of the lobby he needed to check. If they were empty, he was going to call it a day.
As he crossed the lobby, he glanced outside. He could hear the sound of an engine in the distance, and the road was clear. Obviously Quinn had managed to keep them away for now, but she wouldn’t be able to fool them for long. Eventually something would find them, maybe hear the screaming, or just stumble upon them by chance. Either way, Javier would be a long way away by then, and Rose had two minutes to appear, or she would be left behind with the others.
“Rose?” Javier called out loudly, but got no response.
He approached a door at the back of the lobby, behind the reception area, and pushed it open with the axe. The door swung back, revealing little. There was no source of light in the room, and Javier squinted. He could make out a maid’s cart full of toilet rolls and tiny tubes of toothpaste, and row after row of clean pressed sheets. The utility room was otherwise empty, and he pressed on. The next room was an office with papers spread out over its dark grey floor. Splashes of blood dripped from the walls, and clearly there had been a fight in here at some point. The blood was dried though, and there was no sign that anyone had been here recently. Javier walked down the narrow corridor and turned a corner to see a zombie pushing itself against a closed door. It had its back to him and didn’t hear Javier approaching. It kept pushing on the door, scrambling to get in, but the door wasn’t budging.
Javier strolled right up behind it, fascinated. It had no idea he was there. All its focus was on that door and whatever lay behind it. The dead woman had probably been a guest, dressed in knee-length shorts, a pleated blouse, and white tennis shoes.
“Hey, bitch.”
As the zombie turned around, Javier swung the axe neatly at its head, severing it from the body. The legs stumbled forward, and then the body fell to the floor. In the darkness Javier could see the woman’s head roll away, and yet the teeth still clacked together. The jaw continued to work, and the eyes rolled up to look at Javier menacingly. Javier brought the axe down on the head, cleaving the skull in half, and the woman finally was dead.
“You in there? It’s me.” Javier knocked on the door three times. “Come on, open up.”
He heard scraping noises coming from the other side, the sound of a bolt being slid back, and then the door opened. Javier held up his axe, just in case, and a figure rushed out at him. It took a moment in the darkness to realize who it was, and he almost took Freya’s head off. She ran up to him and grabbed his leg.
“Hey, Freya, don’t worry, Uncle Gabe’s got you now. You okay, honey?”
Freya didn’t speak, but held onto him tightly, and he bent down to her. He looked her over, looking for a sign or clue that she might have been bitten. He ran his hands through her curly blonde hair and checked her clothes. Nothing was torn, and she appeared to be fine. He stared into her blue eyes, impressed. Yes she was scared, but she still had it together. Even Terry had crumbled quickly, but she had managed to hide, to stay alive.
“All right then. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, Freya.”
Javier stood up and found Freya reaching for his hand. Her small fingers slipped into his, and he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He looked down at the little girl, beginning to understand what Rose saw in her. The girl was the prodigy of a cop, but there was still time to save her. She was naïve, weak, yet undeniably cute, and she was strong too. After everything they had been through, after the loss of her brother and being surrounded by ineptitude and death, she was still here.
“Freya, did you see anyone else? Like Mrs. Danick or Mara?”
Freya looked up at him blankly. She shook her head from side to side quickly, and then cast her eyes down at the floor. She shoved a key chain into her pocket, and then thrust two fingers into her mouth. She began to suck on them as they walked down the corridor back to the lobby.
Well then, thought Javier, let’s hope Hamsikker has more luck upstairs, or Rose is going to be pissed when she realizes I’ve left her behind.
Back in the lobby Javier thought about venturing upstairs. Had Hamsikker found Rose, or was he still searching? Freya squeezed his hand, and he looked down at her. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at the outside.
Javier looked, but the van was gone. “Come on then, let’s see what gives.” He took Freya out of the hotel and didn’t have to wait long to see what was going down. The mob of zombies had almost reached them, but there was no sign of Quinn or the campervan.
“Gabe, over here!”
Javier turned to see Hamsikker waving at him from behind a pillar. Beside him were Mrs. Danick
and Erik. From behind them a figure emerged into the sunlight, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile when he saw Rose.
“I’ll be damned,” he said as she ran up to him. They embraced, and Javier felt Freya’s fingers slip from his. “Rose, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just fine,” she replied as she kissed his neck.
“Is Freya…?”
“She’s fine too.” Javier looked at Rose. He thought he could almost detect a teardrop in her eye. Was she really that upset? He had begun to believe they were drifting apart, but perhaps he was wrong. They said stressful events could bring people together, so maybe she was beginning to realize she was better off with him than without him.
“Gabe, I can’t begin to thank you enough,” said Erik approaching him. Freya was in his arms, her wet fingers back in her mouth, and her blue eyes looking up at him with a look that Javier couldn’t understand. Was it relief? Trust? It was a look he wasn’t familiar with. There was an understanding, a bond between them that he had never experienced. Javier remembered how she had took his hand after he’d found her and was suddenly curious.
“Looks like a fair trade to me, partner. You got your girl, and I got mine.” Javier put his arm around Rose. “Freya here was really brave. Weren’t you, honey?” He reached out a hand and patted her cheek.
“She’s something else. If I’d lost her, I…well, anyway, I didn’t. So you need anything at all, Gabe, you just let me know.”
“Hate to break up the reunion, but we have to move,” said Hamsikker.
Javier nodded. “So where’s our ride?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Hamsikker. “We can’t hang around here waiting though.” There was an unspoken question hanging in the air, one that he didn’t want to ask, but he knew he had to. Erik was so preoccupied with holding onto Freya and making sure she was okay that he had clean forgotten about Terry.
“Gabe.” Hamsikker licked his lips. “Gabe, what happened in there? Is Terry..?”
