by David Moody
‘Thought it might help.’
‘I’m sure he’ll thank you for it later.’
‘I’m not sure Kyle’s gonna have a later,’ Charlie said, watching over their shoulders. ‘He looks terrible.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ Veronica said.
Charlie grabbed a handful of canapés and started shoving them into his mouth. He wasn’t hungry, didn’t want them, but it helped just to be doing something. ‘So what do we do now?’ he asked, spitting out crumbs.
‘Well, if what we’re seeing outside matches the behaviours we typically see in zombie movies, I’d suggest doing very little,’ Howard said.
‘That’ll suit you blokes then,’ Veronica said. He ignored her.
‘Think about it, when it all goes wrong in a zombie movie, it’s usually because one of the survivors, people like us, has gone and done something stupid. So the best thing we can do, I reckon, is nothing. This building’s like a fortress and no one knows we’re in here. We’ve got loads of food and drink. If the power goes down, the UPS will kick in and keep us well lit and warm. Honestly, we’d be idiots to think about doing anything else.’
‘We should kill him,’ a voice said, surprising them all. It was Giles Barnes from IT. He’d been squirrelled away in here, it seemed, scoffing food and playing games on his laptop rather than mixing with colleagues.
‘Kill who?’ Charlie said. ‘Howard?’
‘No, him,’ Giles said, hooking a thumb at Kyle.
‘Where the hell did you come from?’ Debbie asked.
‘IT. I had some things I was working on. The world doesn’t stop just because it’s Christmas, you know.’
‘It might tonight,’ she mumbled.
Giles ignored her. ‘He’s infected. He’ll turn eventually and attack one of us. That’s what happens in the movies. Night of the Living Dead, Shaun Of The Dead, all of them. We need to kill him. Crush his head, preferably – it’s all about the head – maybe drop the petty cash safe from finance on it.’ He made a squishing sound through his teeth, then looked at them completely deadpan. ‘That would do it.’
Veronica turned to Charlie, all colour having drained from her face. ‘I need to get out of this bloody place,’ she said and gathered her things together.
‘No you don’t,’ Howard said, stepping in front of her. ‘I told you, nobody’s going anywhere. Like I said, we’ve got everything we need here so we just... wait, all right?’
Debbie, Charlie and Veronica all looked at him. ‘So that’s your great plan is it, mate?’ Charlie said. ‘Just pull the blinds down and pretend nothing’s happening?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘It’s what you implied,’ Veronica said. It felt like they were ganging up on him.
‘No, not at all... it’s just that we don’t have to go out there and start looking for trouble. Look, we all want to survive this, right? So let’s just keep our heads down and wait ’til it blows over.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not as easy as that, is it?’ Veronica said. ‘There’s bloody Kyle over there for a start and all that stuff he said.’ She pointed at Giles, having clearly forgotten his name. ‘And some of us have got homes to go to... partners who’ll worry about us, you ever think about that?’
It was a fair point, Howard reckoned. After the incident in the foyer, they had all tried ringing out on their phones but it looked like pretty much every network had crashed. Even the server was down, emailing and Facebook not an option either. It made sense, of course. God knows, everyone would be trying to get hold of everyone else right about now.
‘I thought you and Gary had split up,’ Charlie said to Veronica.
‘Who said anything about Gary?’
Debbie’s eyes widened. ‘Veronica Quinn,’ she said, acting all shocked. ‘You didn’t dump Gary, did you?’
Howard couldn’t believe this. ‘Jesus Christ, does any of this matter now?’
‘If it’s not Gary then who is it?’ Charlie asked, ignoring Howard. ‘It’s got to be someone from the office. It’s not Sean, is it? You’re here all hours, Ronnie. I don’t reckon you’d have time to pick up anyone else who—’
‘Can we just focus on what’s happening here?’ Howard said, exasperated. ‘Good grief. All hell’s breaking loose, some of your colleagues are dead, the whole bloody communications network is down and all you two can talk about is who’s bedding who? Honestly.’
‘Sounds like he’s not getting much,’ Veronica whispered.
‘Tell you the truth, I’d be surprised if he’s getting any,’ Debbie said spitefully.
It wasn’t the first time Howard had heard that one, but coming from Debbie, his Debbie, it cut a lot deeper than usual. Howard turned and marched out of the room.
Charlie shouted after him. ‘Come on, mate... don’t be like that. You said we should stick together. Where are you going?’ He turned to Debbie, pointed to Kyle and said, ‘Watch him. And if he moves even an inch, well, drop that bloody safe on his head.’
Charlie went after Howard, calling him.
But Howard kept walking and Charlie knew where he was going – that little security room of his, his little nest where he could hide behind all his CCTV screens and pretend nobody else was here. Howard slammed the door behind him, but Charlie caught it just before it shut.
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Come on, Howard. Don’t be like that...’
‘You all think you’re so bloody smart, that you know better than me.’
‘It’s not that. Look, we’ve all had a drink and—’
‘I haven’t.’
‘—we’ve all had a drink and it’s been a bit of a shitty evening. We just need to calm down and take it easy. I think you were probably right, mate. We’ll be better off if we just keep the doors locked and hunker down.’
‘You reckon?’
Charlie looked confused. ‘Yeah. That’s what you were saying, wasn’t it?’
Howard span around on his chair like a Bond villain. ‘You’re all missing something, Charlie, and you’re too busy arguing and fighting and taking the piss out of me to realise it.’
‘What?’ Charlie asked, concerned. ‘What are we missing?’
‘The old bloke who was infected. What was his name again?’
‘Barry Jenkins.’
‘Yeah, Barry Jenkins.’
‘What about him?’
‘How did he get sick?’
Charlie stared into the mass of TV screens, familiar views from unfamiliar angles, and tried to work through the implications of what Howard had just said. He wished he’d had a bit less free booze this evening. He needed clarity, but all he had in his head was fog. The penny eventually dropped. ‘Shit. You think there was someone in here who was already infected.’
‘That’s the logical answer, isn’t it? And I reckon they might still be here. So Kyle isn’t the only one we have to worry about.’
Charlie rubbed his mouth, eyes darting from one screen to the next. ‘Mate, they could be anywhere.’
‘Exactly,’ Howard said.
‘Well, we’ve got to find them,’ Charlie said, shoving Howard up a way so he could get a better view of the CCTV. ‘You said this kit covered every inch of the building, right?’
‘Yeah, but that’s a lot of inches.’
‘So we should start at the top and work down.’
‘You think? I think we should start at the bottom and work up. We want to focus on the area nearest to us, don’t we?’ With that he set to work on finding the function room where the others were. He wanted to make sure Debbie was okay.
‘Suppose.’ Charlie was uncomfortable crouching down. He sat up and inadvertently pushed a switch on one of Howard’s control panels. The main monitor they’d been watching went dark then recalibrated, leaving four roughly human-shaped blotches of white and orange light displayed. ‘What did I do?’ he asked.
‘Infrared. Actually, that’s probably a good shout. It might be easier to see if there’s anyone else in
here if we’re looking for their body heat.’
Howard began moving the feed from room to room, checking each new link with a repetitive across, down, across, down motion of the camera. It reminded Charlie of the way he’d seen window-cleaners wiping the glass quick-fire with their squeegees as they’d descended the outside of the Kaplan building in their cradles, moving rhythmically and never leaving any suds or streaks; each pane cleaned with the exact same pattern of moves.
‘Nothing,’ Howard said after a while.
‘Maybe he got bit outside then came back in.’
‘If I had his pass I could check.’
‘You could go and get it. He’s still in the foyer.’
‘You can piss off. You think I’m going anywhere near what’s left of him?’
Howard cycled through the ground floor rooms again, settling on the function room. They were still there, the four of them. Kyle still slumped in the corner, Debbie and Veronica standing close and watching him, Giles doing God knows what.
‘What outside cameras do we have?’ Charlie asked. Howard beckoned him over to another set of screens.
‘Just a few,’ he explained. ‘Nothing like the indoor set up. Mostly they’re concentrated on the loading bays around back, but there are a few midway up the building, looking down.’
When Howard switched to the external feed, he almost wished the picture quality hadn’t been quite so good. Things outside had got decidedly worse since they’d last checked. A group of cops had gathered on James Street, dressed in riot gear, fending off a horde of what looked to be zombies. The cops stood in a line with shields, trying desperately to hold the infected back, a small group of survivors cowering behind them. There was a truck with a water cannon spraying jets of water into the frenzied mob, but it wasn’t enough and some of the zombies broke through, reaching the survivors and lighting upon them like a pack of hungry dogs.
Charlie looked away but Howard couldn’t stop himself from staring, mesmerised by the scene taking place before him.
There was a young woman, not unlike Debbie, and one of them had her by the hair, dragging her to the ground. The others closed in, falling to their hands and knees and literally eating her alive while she screamed and cried out for help that would never come.
‘Turn it off,’ Charlie said and Howard switched back to the screen inside where Debbie and the others were.
For a moment, the two men just sat there in silence, Charlie lost in a thousand yard stare. Maybe the whole thing was hitting home now, Howard thought, the initial shock of it all having lifted and the cold threat of reality seeping through. He didn’t say anything but Howard reckoned he was thinking about his family, about his wife and his kids and the mother-in-law, the Christmas responsibilities that he himself didn’t have.
‘We don’t know how widespread it is,’ Howard said. ‘It could just be the town centre. Everyone else could be fine.’
Charlie checked his phone again and shrugged. ‘Well, why’s the network still down then? No, this is widespread all right. The whole country, maybe the whole bloody world.’ He looked at Howard, eyes wide. ‘Mate, before long it could just be us left. It really could.’
There was a crashing sound from on down the corridor. Both men locked eyes.
‘What was that?’ Howard said. ‘You heard it, right? It wasn’t just me?’
‘I heard it,’ Charlie said and then sat for a moment, poised, waiting to see if whatever happened would happen again. It did.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Howard said.
‘Our Patient Zero?’ Charlie said. ‘Yeah, mate, that’s exactly what I’m thinking. But where’s it coming from? Can you get it up on your infrared thingy?’
Howard tapped a key and his whole network of screens went dark. He homed in on their floor, working his way through the corridors and rooms nearby, to no avail.
‘Why’s it not working?’ Charlie said.
‘It is working.’ Howard flicked back to the main open plan to show him, the orange glows of Debbie and co. still present and accounted for. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said, then flicked over to the foyer where he could see the shadows of Barry Jenkins and Susie’s bodies but no orange glow, not even a faint yellow. ‘Zombies are dead, right? So they might not come up on the infrared. It mightn’t work.’
Charlie rubbed his mouth, thought about that for a moment. And then they heard the noise again, this time louder, like someone was really going for it down there.
‘We have to check it out,’ he said.
Howard swallowed hard. ‘Really? I mean, we could just cordon that corridor off.’
‘No, mate. We can’t risk it. We have to sort this, make sure the building’s clear, otherwise we might as well be out there on the streets with the rest of them.’
‘Okay, fair enough,’ Howard said and sighed.
Charlie stood, cracked a few knuckles and readied himself. ‘You got any weapons?’ he said.
Howard looked at him. ‘Weapons? What kind of weapons?’
‘I don’t know, a gun or something?’
‘A gun? I’m a security guard for Christ’s sake.’
‘Well, what about a baseball bat?’
‘Why the hell would I have a baseball bat?’
‘I don’t know, do I?’ Charlie pointed to the corner. ‘There. What’s that thing?’
Howard looked to find what seemed to be a brush but, when he reached for it, he realised it was one of those rods you used to open and close windows, he wasn’t sure what they were called (if they even had a name). He weighed it in his hand, looked to Charlie. A little long, he thought, but it would do.
‘Well, it’s something,’ Charlie said. ‘You got another one?’
‘You have it,’ Howard said, and handed it over, ‘I’ve got this.’ He picked up his torch, flipped it in his hand. It was pretty damn heavy when he thought about it, could do some real damage if you hit someone in the right place. And according to the sticker on the side, it had the power of 100,000 candles. If he couldn’t hurt the intruder, he could maybe blind them at least.
‘All right then,’ Charlie said. ‘Let’s do this.’
FIVE
They left the security room and crept down the corridor. Halfway along, they heard that noise again, a crashing sound like before. It seemed to be coming from one of the many smaller meeting rooms in this part of the building.
Howard felt a cold sweat break across his back. He wasn’t cut out for this. Sure, he may have worked security but what did that mean? Open a few doors, check the screens every now and then, it was hardly dangerous work. He would have hated to work in one of those malls in America where the security staff did carry guns. Fact of the matter was, Howard wasn’t big on conflict. A lover not a fighter as his old man used to say (before Big Gerald, the local nasty, punched him in the face and put him in a coma for six months).
Charlie, on the other hand, seemed more comfortable in the role. Even the way he held that rod thing looked right, like he wouldn’t hesitate to use it, whatever that involved. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, Howard mused, reaching for the door handle to the meeting room and looking to his colleague.
‘Ready?’ he mouthed.
Charlie nodded, poised for action.
After that, everything became a blur. Howard pulled the door open and Charlie charged in, bellowing out some kind of half-assed battle cry as he went. Howard followed, watching as Charlie made for someone in the back corner of the room.
That was when the lights went down.
In the few seconds that followed, three things happened. First, the UPS kicked in and light was restored to the building, a pale hue at first before the room was lit up in full. Second, Charlie managed to catch their prey with that damn rod of his, hooking the poor bastard, some graduate trainee guy from another Kaplan office that Howard remembered signing in earlier in the day, like a fish by the mouth and pinning him against the back wall. And third, Howard made his first kill of the night.
<
br /> ‘Do it!’ Charlie cried. ‘Come on, what are you waiting for?’
‘Do what?’ Howard said. ‘What am I supposed to do?’
The graduate fought against the hook, arms flailing, blood and drool seeping from his agape mouth, Charlie struggling to hold him in place. ‘Christ’s sake, Howard!’ he yelled. ‘Hit him!’
So Howard hit him, swinging his torch and connecting with the side of the poor bastard’s head. The first blow didn’t seem to do anything so Howard swung again, this time putting his full weight behind it. The torch found purchase, digging into the guy’s head and matted hair, Howard having to literally dig it out. And then he was swinging again, this time bandying his own war cry, and again and again until the guy’s head was mush and his arms fell still by his side.
Howard stepped back, dropping his torch.
‘Is he dead, mate?’ Charlie said, still taking no chances, keeping the guy pinned up against the wall.
‘Think so,’ Howard said, heart bouncing like he was about to spit it out onto the floor.
‘Well thank Christ for that,’ Charlie said and relaxed the rod. The once smooth-looking guy’s body slid down the pristine white wall of the meeting room leaving a bloody trail in its wake, ending in a crumpled heap on the carpet.
Still Howard just stared.
‘He... he was definitely one of them, right?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘A zombie. I mean, he wasn’t just scared or pissed or anything like that?
‘Definitely a zombie,’ Charlie said. ‘I saw it when the lights came back. His eyes were all glazed and fucked-up. He’d got blood pouring out of his mouth.’ He grabbed Howard’s shoulder, gave him a semi-man hug type of thing. ‘Mate,’ he said, ‘you did good. Really, you nailed it.’
‘I did, didn’t I?’ Howard said, smiling all of a sudden. ‘I mean, we had to, right? It was him or us. We had to nail him.’
‘Exactly,’ Charlie said. ‘And Howard, lad, you really gave it to him.’
He curled his hand into a fist and made a little jab move in the air. And then they stood there for a moment, shadowboxing each other, grinning like a couple of halfwits. It was strange and necessary and embarrassing all at once but Howard just went with it, enjoying the bravado of it all. And then his eyes fell upon the body on the floor and it suddenly dawned upon him again that this wasn’t Die Hard, that the dead man on the floor wasn’t one of Hans Gruber’s nameless goons and he wasn’t John Bloody McClane. No, this was actually happening, this was real.
