by Unknown
From out of the corner of his eye he saw it. It was right there in front of him. He stared at it knowing full well that this would not end well.
There were two cherries on the line and one cherry above them and the nudge button was flashing like a pretty girl winking.
His heart began to palpitate as he realised that whoever had been terrorised into leaving this machine in this condition had been on the very cusp of bagging the £500 jackpot, something Jordan had been dreaming about for a very long time.
With the end result being a foregone conclusion, Jordan decided to get it over with quickly and with as little fuss as possible. There was no way he could just walk away from this situation without pressing the nudge button, even if some folks around here had gone stark raving crazy! He waited until Jon, Scott and Ant had reached the very edge of the arcade and were about to enter the gory battleground.
Then he just did it. Just like that. With no warning and no regret, he just scratched that itch. Bang! His hand hit the button as he knew it would. His mother had always told him that his uncontrollable impulses would become his downfall; but would he listen? Oh sure, he felt bad for the others; but there was nothing he could do!
The noise that came out of the machine sounded on par to that of a freight train. It stopped the three silent ninja-like men in their tracks as they turned their heads in mute horror towards a sheepish looking Jordan and a machine that was announcing to the world in the loudest possible way that a jackpot had indeed been won! And then the coins began to pump out.
Jon looked at him and shook his head “You have to be kidding me!” he said before following up with “RUN!”
The pounding of the machine as it spewed it's five hundred coins all over the floor, together with the loud WAAAA!WAAAA!WAAAA! sound that blared from out of the speakers, not only began to attract the vile outer casings of what had once been rather nice and sane people, but also managed to drown out some other hideous noises that were coming from inside the little office.
If any security footage were to be viewed at a later date it would show Andy rolling up his trouser leg to inspect a rather nasty and bloody wound. It would then show him appear to die, as a startled, bound and gagged Bryn looked on. One can only imagine poor Bryn's horror, as right there in front of him, the dead body of his manager began to twitch and contort. The eyes that flew open were not the eyes of Andy, his manager; they were the crazed bloodshot eyes of a lusting madman.
The images on the security tape will be in grainy black and white, which at least will shield the viewer from the full horror of what took place in that little room, as poor, incapacitated Bryn was completely eaten, beginning with his left ear.
The viewer would see that, mercifully, Bryn appeared to meet with his death approximately five minutes later (probably of shock) as Andy ripped open his torso to get at the softer organs, and the splatter of grey- looking liquid that sprayed onto the camera lens in the tenth minute, as Bryn's body was torn into several smaller sized chunks, at least prevented the indignity of Bryn's final devouring ever ending up on the internet.
The four men managed to get across the concourse and to the opening of the Waitrose supermarket with relatively little bother given the circumstances. Ant made the mistake of turning his head to look at the escalators which, being run on a separate generator, were still ferrying zombies between the ground and first floors. The undead had mainly stumbled onto the sharp metal moving steps more by accident than purpose as their sense of smell and their lust for flesh lead them blindly in all directions.
At the top of the ascending escalator stood a man- a normal man, but a horrified man.
Tears were running down his cheeks and his eyes were full of despair. Travelling on the escalator, heading towards him and unable to stand, was a small elderly lady.
He had watched helplessly as she had been attacked on the floor below and had fallen onto the moving staircase. Her long grey hair, which had previously been held in a tidy bun, had been pulled and tugged loose and was now caught up in the movement of the stairs, pinning her head against the metal. She was quite smeared with blood, but she did not notice, and as she neared the crying man she turned her head to face him and began to growl and spit, and glare at him with unrecognisable wild eyes.
Her head reached the man's foot, and as Ant watched, unable to drag his eyes away from the dreadful scene, the sobbing man bought down his heavy boot and without doubt crushed the poor ladies skull to smithereens. It was also without doubt that this had been a strong act of mercy and of love as the hysterical man then fell to his knees screaming the words “Forgive me, Mom!!” which reverberated throughout the building causing Anthony Langston to throw up all over his rented tuxedo.
This was real, and nowhere near as easy as he had imagined in his made- up scenarios. This was really going to require a huge amount of Man-up juice if he were to survive. He looked for the other three, who he had briefly been separated from, and in his peripheral vision he happened to spot the slightly glowing green M claw motif on Scott's favourite Rossi baseball cap heading into the supermarket, which unfortunately appeared to be rather full of shuffling, groaning blood- soaked shoppers.
As Ant turned to catch them up he felt a tug on his right arm. Standing there before him was an abomination of humankind, half man and half snarling beast. This was really it, no time for jelly legs now. With his left hand he reached over his right shoulder and drew out the samurai umbrella from its sheath. He had to take a step backwards due to its length, and with a racing heart, he plunged the metal tip straight into the monster's crazed eyeball. Blood sprayed out, as he forced his weapon of choice deeper into it's skull, piercing the brain, and then just as quickly, he pulled it back out again. He didn't wait around to watch his victim slump to the floor dead. Holding back tears and yet more vomit he ran into the shop thrashing wildly at anything that groaned in his path.
Scott, who had now noticed Ant's absence and was frantically searching through the stumbling crowd, gasped with relief at the sight of an umbrella being wielded in a maniacal manner, and whistled (of all things) the loudest wolf whistle he'd ever before managed.
Recognising the sound, Ant raced towards it and was soon reunited with his three allies. Shaken, breathless but alive, and (although it would never fill him with absolute pride) he had his first zombie kill under his belt.
In the dim light of the supermarket, the four men edged their way along the chilled/frozen aisle. After only having had one member of the undead to deal with along the way, they quietly pondered whether the cool temperature may be disguising their irresistible aroma. That poor victim had quickly been dispatched with something as simple and undignified as a blackcurrant callipo through the eye socket, administered by Jon at close quarters. No time for sentiment.
As they shuffled along on their knees to the end of the aisle, occasionally reaching up to grab small items of food supplies from the freezers, they peered around the corner and were astounded to see what appeared to be a seven foot high Power Ranger comically fending off a gang of lumbering cartoon baddies. Of course, there wasn't really anything remotely funny going on at the checkout area; and it wasn't a Power ranger at all- it was a biker dressed head to foot in leather complete with crash helmet.
Unable to bite through the tough leather or claw through the perfect safety headgear- and without enough living brain cells to realise this-they continued to lunge at him with their mouths. More and more of them were making their shuffling advances towards him, attracted by the sound of the others' groans- and, of course, the delicious scent of living flesh.
He had in his possession a mop which he had managed to prise out of the hands of a half- eaten sanitation consultant, and was using it against them with the skill and power of a martial arts expert. Maybe he was one!
He flailed his crude weapon strongly and swiftly, crushing skulls and jabbing eyes, even subjecting a few of the poor gruesome sods to a Glasgow kiss from his rock hard helmet. Each time
he knocked one off their feet he stamped really hard on their heads with his huge biker boot. Blood and bits of brains were flying in all directions, coating the cash registers and the 'suggestive selling' area in a thick red lumpy goo. The supermarket was fast resembling an abattoir (though the smell was thankfully indescribable).
For a fleeting moment, Scott wished he had made the journey to the Gadget Show on his own Kawasaki ZX12R. At least he would be wearing a zombie- proof suit right now; and with all due respect- and taking into account the dreadful circumstance that this lone karate biker was in- (albeit fairly protected), and judging him by his body language alone- Scott decided that this Stig look-a-likey appeared to be having the time of his life!
It was because of this noisy attraction that the foursome were given the opportunity to make a dash for the staircase that would lead them to the safety of the building's roof. Following Jon's lead, they ran through the fire doors and up the first flight of stairs.
Half way up the second flight Jon suddenly halted and held up his hand for the others to do the same. There were noises coming from above them. It was hard to tell at first what was making the noises, but it was definitely movement. They silently crept up another step, hearts pounding and weapons poised. They strained their ears and eyes in the half darkness, not daring to breathe.
Suddenly there was a loud, dull thud, followed by a long, loud groan, which was quickly followed by an angry, accusing voice that said “For fuck's sake Josh, you ain't pushing hard enough. I'll climb up me bloody self, ya' wimp!”
“It's Kelly!” shouted a relieved Jon to the others behind him as he raced up the remaining stairs, narrowly missing getting his head bashed in by a startled Kelly who, on hearing footsteps running towards her, had sprang into attack mode.
“Nice crowbars!” said Jon, not only relieved to find living beings up here but thankful that tough no-nonsense Kelly was one of them.
“Babes!” cried Kelly, “I've never been so glad to see you two ugly gits!” she said hugging her fellow work colleagues. “Who are your mates?”
Kelly looked first at Scott, who being a gent immediately offered his hand in greeting.
“I'm Scott, pleased to meet you!” he said simply.
Ignoring his outstretched hand, Kelly instead offered out her fist- which Scott, aware of the crowbar in her hand, quickly fist- bumped. This was not the kind of female he was used to meeting but at least she appeared unruffled and capable.
“Wow! What is that smell?” she asked, sniffing the air around Scott. “It's awful and at the same time …..... frickin' gorgeous!”
Scott looked down at himself to an area where he had earlier felt a warm wet patch on his hip. With realisation dawning, he remembered the bottle of Sex Panther that he had hastily shoved in his coat pocket which had now obviously leaked out. Sensing Scott's embarrassment, Ant too remembered the personal purchase and probably, because of the whole surreal and terrifying situation they had become embroiled in, he began to laugh uncontrollably.
Kelly looked at him sharply, taking in his whole appearance: his face splattered in blood from his fairly fresh Zombie kill and dressed in a sparkling black tuxedo, complete with frilly white shirt front, pink dickie bow and matching cummberbund, all with a light coating of brain spray and vomit and chuckling away like a demented hyena. She did no more than drop the crowbar that was in her right hand and land a hefty slap straight across Ant's face.
“Now control yourself!” she said with an edge of kindness in her voice.
Totally stunned by the sudden violation, Ant stopped laughing. “Ye, sorry,” he stammered. “I've never killed anyone before and....”
“Yeah, whatever!” Josh cut in, prowling pensively around the landing. “I've probably killed ten down there, and if we don't get this fuckin' hatch opened we're gonna' have to go and kill some more!”
Jordan took this as his cue to climb up the fixed ladder and use his brawn against the stubborn hatch.
“You alright mate?” asked Scott, putting his arm around Ant's shoulder in sympathy.
“Yeah, yeah. Just a minor blip. Gotta' give my head a wobble!” he answered calmly. “The bitch probably did me a favour; and god, man, that stuff stinks. Can't see Fliss liking it!”
“We're gonna' get out of here,” said Scott encouragingly. “And if we don't we're gonna' take down as many Zombie fuckers as we can. And you're already one up on me so......!”
Their conversation was interrupted by the exasperated voice of Jordan “This damn thing ain't budging, I think it's double- locked from the outside!” he announced, jumping down off the ladder after trying desperately to prise the solid hatch open with one of the crowbars. “Looks like a plan B is needed!”
Josh punched the wall hard with his fist, nearly breaking a finger.
“And you can pack that in, you muppet,” growled Kelly “Self harming is the last thing we need! Jon, you know the ins- and- outs of this building better than anyone. What's plan B?”
“We need to get down to stores Kel. There's food and drink and coded locks on doors, so it should be a safe place to work from. The maintenance office is next to it, and it's full of tools that we can use as weapons. I've just checked the lift and the powers gone. So that option's out. We're gonna have to go the scenic route I'm afraid!
And so six heavy hearts all had to turn away from the hatch in the roof- and their one real hope of freedom. They headed downstairs in single file, whispering instructions and encouragement to each other. Jon had offered everyone the advice of making their way downstairs to Stores which was deep in the bowels of the building and which contained pretty much everything that was needed for survival.
Using Kelly's thick black eyeliner that she kept in her bra, Josh had scribbled a basic map onto Scott's arm that would give Ant and Scott at least some idea where to head if they lost sight of the others. He also included the much -needed door lock codes that could mean the very difference between life and death.
No zombies had ventured through the heavy fire doors that separated the stairwell from the supermarket. Ant was the first to peer through one of the long, thin panels of glass in one of the doors, and that gave a glimpse into the awful happenings on the shop floor. The Power Ranger was still handing out his own form of punishment to the undead- although he appeared to be moving a tad slower than when they had previously seen him. He motioned Scott to look through the other glass panel and as Scott watched the amazing mop stick warrior, he too noted a slowing down of the biker's movements, and what looked to be a tear in his leather armoury.
“God, I hope he makes it through!” whispered Scott to himself. Leaving a fellow biker behind meant going against his own moral code.
Sensing Scott's torment, Ant reminded him of Number Three of their own devised set of apocalyptic rules: “Ignore all cries for help from other humans. Don't even look at them. If they are wearing blood then it is already too late.”
“Ye, ye I know,” replied Scott, “Right, let's do this!”
The sixsome readied themselves behind the door. Again they whispered plans and encouragement to each other, reiterating and instilling the belief that they would all make it safely to the large storing area down below.
“We will always know where you are mate,” Kelly whispered, addressing Scott. “That's how overpowering your choice of after shave is!”
This created a small ripple of nervous laughter among them, before Jordan cut in “Right, on three!”
The counts of 'one' and 'two' passed in a blur as all ears waited for that all important 'three'. When it came, the five men and one little lady burst through the fire doors, brandishing weapons that they could only hope would get them through this weird and crazy battle.
Thankfully, the chilled aisles were clear as the leathered assassin was still attracting attention of the most unpleasant kind. For how much longer though remained uncertain, as his mop swinging was becoming less and less effective.
Shuffling along, low and silently,
they reached the end of the aisle and from here they could see out onto the concourse, the main area of the food hall, and seating area. The scene that played out before their eyes was horrifying! If this was a battle then this was most definitely the battle field.
The floor, which had previously been covered with high-end beige tiles, was now reddy/brown and smudgy in some places; but in others there were pools, several inches deep and made up of slightly- clotting bright red blood. Some of these pools contained limbs and other external body parts; others contained half- chewed internal organs. If there had been any more remnants of breakfast in any of our six known survivors, then it would have been showing itself right about now. Instead, a bit of dry heaving was all that was managed.
However, what was truly the most disturbing thing to witness was the complete and utter breakdown of humanity. From where they were, they watched as a young teenage girl who had been fleeing from a mob of crazy- eyed shuffling monsters and was desperately searching for somewhere to hide, had slipped over in a deep red pool of someone else's misfortune. As she scrambled to right herself, she became more and more embroiled in the sticky residue, her shoes slipping constantly, her hands unable to make any purchase in the warm gooey mess.
