The Infected Chronicles (Book 1): Origin

by Andie Fessey

  The whole body of the man outside pressed flat against the glass, his hands outstretched and splayed across the window, fingers leaving bloody streaks as the hands tried to claw through the glass, sounding like chalk pulled hard across a blackboard.

  He wore the remnants of a shirt, lay around his torso tattered, covered in dark stains.

  The group jumped as his face struck against the large pane of glass, his cheekbone pressed against the window, teeth clearly visible through the gaping wound to the side of his face, fleshy white strands hanging down.

  His teeth grinded repeatedly, even through the glass they could hear the sound, clicking as his teeth chattered through a grimacing mouth, lips pulled tightly.

  His eyes were set amongst dark shadows, the scoria completely bloodshot.

  Sliding across the glass slowly, almost purposefully, he left greasy streaks along the pane as his hands attempted to find leverage on the glass.

  A teenage couple sat near the front of the building, holding each in abject fear, the figure appearing to sense them and slid slowly along the glass to them.

  The group of youths took out their mobile phones, taking photographs as they followed his progress along the wide panes of glass.

  “Fucking awesome! You’ve got the best phone Maddy, get a video,” Lewis instructed.

  She ran her fingers quickly across the screen, when one the fathers, huddled around the counter, his arms protectively wrapped around his young son in front of him, clutching his father’s legs, yelled at them.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Fuck off Grandad,” Tyler said, as the group continued to take photographs of the figure, traversing a slow, gruesome journey along the glass, leaving a tableau of filthy stains in his wake.

  The young couple sat at the corner table, held each other tightly.

  “It’s coming to get you,” Tyler said, laughing, “brainsss!”

  The others in their group laughed, awakening the couple from their frozen panic, hurriedly rushing to the counter, joining the rest of the throng gathered there.

  Tyler walked up to the figure, the reinforced glass between them and licked it, the mouth of the man gnashing wildly as he did so.

  “You’ve got yourself a new boyfriend!” Lewis yelled, laughing.

  “Fuck off,” Tyler replied, laughing and gesticulating obscenely with his hips pressed against the pane.

  “Here Maddy, video this,” he said, thrusting his hips back and forth at the glass, the man clawing helplessly at him.

  “It’s like one of those fucking fish in me Ma’s aquarium,” Tyler said, tracing his finger along the inside of the glass, the mouth outside chomping at air, attempting to bite his finger.

  The group of them continued to laugh, until they heard the shouts from the group of people stood around the counter.

  “You fucking idiots. Get away from there!”

  “Why nob-jockey?” Tyler called, “you fucking shat yourself or what?”

  “You brainless, fucking idiot! We’ve already rang the police. Just get away from there, before you lead that bloody thing towards the door.”

  “What?” Tyler exclaimed.

  Looking outside the window, he realised he moved to the wall of glass located at the front of the building.

  The automatic doors were only several feet away.

  “Fuck,” he exclaimed, desperately trying to coax the figure to follow his fingers in the opposite direction.

  The man, ignoring his beckoning finger, continued his slow progress to the entrance, embracing the glass in a deathly white grip.

  “Jesus Christ will somebody do something!” The woman they taunted cried, quickly turning and hastily entering the small toilet cubicle, locking the door behind her.

  “How do you lock the doors?” the man who earlier shouted at them, asked a member of staff cowering next to a till, her acne ridden face white with fear.

  “Is there a switch around here or something?”

  “It’s a key,” a voice spoke from behind him.

  Turning, he faced an overweight twenty-something man, greasy hair sitting atop of a heavily jowled face. He wore a goatee beard and his earlobes stretched to a point it appeared they may snap, by the size and weight of the two large rings in them.

  The badge he wore on his lilac shirt covered in dark patches of perspiration, identified his name as ‘Jeff’.

  Underneath his name, the badge bore the words ‘Assistant Manager’.

  “And where does the fucking key go, Jeff?” Lewis asked, the group walking across the restaurant, to stand at the counter.

  “In the frame at the top of the left-hand side of the door, there’s a lock near the top,” Jeff replied, holding one of his large arms up, and pointed with a fat finger to the entrance.

  “Well go and lock the fucking thing then!” Tyler shouted.

  “I’m not, I can’t, I…” Jeff stuttered, shaking as beads of sweat poured from his forehead as he shook his head.

  “For fucks sake,” a man near to him said. “is there a back door or a fire exit?”

  “What if there are more of those things outside?” A woman’s trembling voice asked.

  She stood behind the counter, clutching the hand of a young girl.

  “Let’s just close that fucking door first,” the man replied.

  “Then where’s the fucking key?” Another man asked.

  Before Jeff could reply, the girl cowering near the till leant forward, dropping a bunch of keys onto the counter.

  “It’s the one with the yellow fob,” she said, resuming her position, tears streaming down her face.

  The man moved across to grab the keys from the counter, but the boy at his legs grabbed at his arms.

  “No Daddy, no.”

  Before he could respond, a slim girl wearing one of the short-sleeved shirts the staff wore, grabbed at the bunch of keys.

  “I’ll do it,” she said. “If you don’t turn it the right way it won’t lock anyway.”

  Before anybody could protest, she slowly made her way to the entrance, watching the grotesque figure edge closely along the glass, now mere feet away from the automatic doors.

  Hurrying her pace, she reached the door, careful to stay to one side, so as not to activate the infrared sensor controlling it.

  Through the pane of glass next to the door, behind a sign promoting their company’s latest meal deals, she could see the movement of the figure.

  Examining the keys held in her palm, she saw a key with a yellow fob lay on top of the bunch.

  Holding it up to the lock, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, caused her hand to shake uncontrollably, the bunch of keys falling to the floor, the metallic sound resounding through the hushed restaurant.

  “Shit,” she exclaimed, bending retrieve them.

  Clutching at the bunch, sorting out the door key from the others, she rapidly rose to her feet. With the door key in her fingers, she reached up with her arm to the lock, when sounded the distinctive ‘whoosh’, as the automatic doors slid open.

  She froze in terror, her arm still outstretched upwards to insert the key.

  Horrified and immobilised with terror, she watched the man shamble through the open doorway.

  Up close, she heard clearly the noise of his snapping teeth, which she now saw both in his snarling mouth and in the angry wound to the side of his face.

  Dangling, thick veins hung from beneath the wound, dripping dark ooze onto his jaw.

  Staring at his wound she was slightly aware of the warmness running along her thighs, as her urine ran freely, trickling to the floor.

  Bringing his head to her outreached arm, he dug his teeth deeply into her armpit.

  She screamed in agony and terror as he shook his head like a rapid dog, before wrenching it, blood spewing forth from her gaping wound onto her uniform and the floor, the pain radiating from her armpit, indescribable.

  Bringing his hands to the piece of flesh held within his mouth,
he pulled and teared at it.

  Regaining control of her motor skills, she pushed passed him, pushing at him as she did.

  He fell forwards, striking the edge of a nearby table, slipping unceremoniously to the floor as she ran into the night screaming, clutching at the terrible wound inflicted upon her body.

  “Fucking hell,” Tyler said, “that must have fucking killed.”

  Screams from the crowd of people congregated at the rear of the restaurant filled the air, desperately working their way through the rear of the kitchen, to the door used for taking deliveries.

  The figure, finished eating the morsel torn from the girl’s armpit, now struggled to stand up.

  Staring at them, fresh blood poured freely from his snarling mouth and chin, onto his chest.

  “Fuck this off,” Lewis said, “is there anything we can use as a weapon?”

  They were unable to get to the rear of the counter due to the throng of people pushing and forcing their way through the small gap leading to the rear of the restaurant.

  Parents still stood on the public side of the counter, lifting their children over to the other side.

  “I’ve got a Stanley blade,” Dylan said, producing a craft knife from the pocket of his baggy bottoms.

  “Fuck you going to do with that?” Tyler asked.

  “Dunno,” Dylan responded, holding the short blade in front of him.

  The figure, stumbling forward, began righting himself up.

  “Fucking hell,” Maddison said, “will someone do something? That twat is getting closer.”

  Staring around, they found nothing on this side of the counter suitable.

  Lewis picked up several cartons of various sauces and started throwing them at the creature.

  “Fuck off you bastard!” he cried, a couple of the others following suit, as Maddison laughed nervously.

  Picking up a box of napkins, Tyler threw them in the man’s direction, the napkins opening mid-flight, the square sheets of paper falling around the figure.

  He swiped his arms at the paper with slow, exaggerated movements.

  “Video it Maddy!” Tyler instructed, laughing.

  Taking her mobile from her pocket, she filmed the ghoulish proceedings.

  Laughing as they continued their onslaught, they could not help but notice he managed to stand, now slowly shambling to them, his moaning lost amidst the screams of the people still behind the counter.

  Looking around, Tyler’s eyes fell upon a tall baby highchair, located at a nearby table.

  Grabbing it, he flipped it over, gripping the vinyl cushioned seat in his hands.

  Screaming aloud, he ran at the approaching figure, the legs of the highchair outstretched in front of him.

  “Fucking have this!” he shouted, striking the man with the full force of his body behind the blow, all four legs of the highchair penetrating the man’s torso as he stumbled.

  “Get in there Ty!” Lewis shouted.

  Tyler returned to them as the man stumbled, the highchair protruding from his broken ribcage.

  He swiped at it but only managed to free one of the legs from his body, followed by the edge of a rib, dripping in thick black secretion.

  The highchair hanging from his body, he walked slowly towards them, his mouth pouring with black ooze in addition to the scarlet blood from his recent feed.

  “Fucking hell,” Tyler exclaimed.

  “You know your movies Dylan,” he said, turning to his companion, “fuck you have to do to get this fucker down?”

  “No idea Ty,” his friend responded. “Usually something to do with twatting their brains in or something like that.”

  Nodding in response, Tyler looked around for something to used as a weapon against the creature, but all he found was the coin operated machine which dispensed children’s small toys.

  “Does that thing budge?” he said to two of the other lads.

  Grabbing it, they pulled with their combined strength, but it only slightly moved.

  “All of yer, grab it!” Tyler barked.

  Responding immediately, the five youths managed to raise it between themselves to waist height.

  Maddison stood to one side, recording it on her mobile, though both her hands shook noticeably.

  “What do you want us to do with it?” Lewis gasped, holding the weighty glass and metal machine with the others.

  “Well I don’t want you to get me a fucking toy dinosaur out of it, do I?” Tyler shouted, before turning to face one of the fathers on the other side of the counter.

  “Oi mate, make yourself fucking useful and pass us a tray or something will yer?”

  The man remained motionless, before grabbing his child’s hand, pushing along with the rest of the throng on the staff side of the counter, to escape this nightmare.

  “You bloody gobshite,” Tyler spat, leaning across the counter to try and locate a tray, or other object to aid him.

  “Ty,” Maddison called out, “it’s going to have you!”

  Turning around, he saw the approaching man stumbling as he approached him.

  What the Fuck is he picking on me for?

  Turning, he edged over onto the counter, his calves and feet hanging across behind him.

  The girl, originally passing the keys to the door, remained crouched there, cowering underneath one of the shelves.

  “Hey babe,” Tyler motioned to her, “can you pass me a fucking tray or something big and metal please?”

  Staring at him, she remained frozen to the spot.

  “For fucks sake love, I said please!” He shouted.

  Her eyes blinked rapidly, staring into the face peering down at her.

  His baseball cap fell from his head onto the floor next to her, causing her to jump.

  “You can keep that if you just pass me something quickly,” he said, hearing the shuffle of feet from behind him and the voices of his friends yelling at him to get away from there.

  Snapping from her trance, she rummaged around the underside of the counter. Finding only plastic trays, she turned her gaze to the large shelf opposite, holding metallic trays full of the burgers and meals, earlier prepared for the patrons of the restaurant.

  Lunging to the shelf, she grabbed one of the trays, burgers and fries falling around her as she turned around, passing it quickly to the youth leaning across the counter.

  Spinning around, he found himself face to face with the man.

  Maddison screamed, as the figure stretched a bloodied arm to him.

  “Fuck off, you ugly twat,” he said angrily, swinging the tray in a wide arc, hitting the man to the side of his head.

  The man staggered, reaching to him.

  He swung the tray, striking him repeatedly, with little effect.

  He jumped from the counter and the figure hesitated for a moment, as his bloodshot eyes fell upon the mass of people stood in the rear.

  It was a moment Tyler refused to waste.

  Standing, he swung the tray down at the rear of the man’s knees.

  For a second, the figure buckled, so he kicked at him with all his might, the man falling to the floor, but immediately, slowly scrambling to right himself.

  “Now!” Tyler cried.

  “Drop it now!”

  The others stared at each other, but before they could ask where they were to drop this machine, causing the muscles of their arms to burn and ache, he shouted louder at them.

  “On his fucking head!”

  They hesitated for a second, but seeing the man work his way to his feet, they quickly moved to his side, dropping the machine onto his head and shoulders.

  The glass partition at the front of the machine cracked and shattered, landing on the side of his head, black ooze spraying from his mouth as shards of glass pierced his upper torso. His arms scrambled on the floor, trying to grab their legs.

  “How the fucking fuck, did you fucking manage to fucking miss it?” Tyler shouted.

  He came to their side, joining them in kic
king at the man’s grasping arms.

  “Grab it again, quickly!”

  Leaning, they grabbed the broken machine, continuing to kick at the man’s groping arms and managing to raise it a couple of feet in the air.

  “The metal bit. Drop the fucking metal bit on him!” Tyler shouted.

  Quickly positioning the lower half of the machine, over the bloodied abomination of a face lay underneath them, they dropped it.

  Half of the man’s skull erupted and they skidded, as pieces of cranial matter and bone shot onto the floor like a parody of thick soup.

  Tyler pushed his weight down on top of the machine, forcing it down, pieces of skull and cheekbone splattering from the figure beneath.

  The figure ceased moving.

  Turning, he looked at Maddison, panting and catching his breath.

  He grinned, staring at her.

  “Eh girl, you better tell me you filmed all of that?”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Accident and Emergency department was abuzz with people, many sat on the hard, plastic seats, a few wandered around aimlessly.

  A young couple stood at a vending machine, choosing which chocolate bars they were set to purchase.

  A paramedic team rushed through the large area, pushing a gurney carrying a woman with horrific facial injuries and a severe wound to her leg.

  Another crew followed closely behind, pushing another gurney, carrying a man with a severe laceration to his chest, groaning in pain.

  Following closely behind the crews, half a dozen uniformed police officers rushed through the doors, two holding onto one of their colleagues, clenching at an arm stained red with blood.

  Three other officers held tightly onto a writhing woman, hands restrained behind her back.

  A bloody, gaping wound on her shoulder bled profusely as one of the officer held a large wad of bandage to it to stem the flow, whilst simultaneously keeping away from her biting mouth, as she attempted to bite at anything within reach.

  Several of the people in the waiting area, quickly moved away from their seats, as the officers walked passed them.

  The thrashing of the woman’s head caused the thick, dark liquid emitting from her mouth, to fly in all directions.