Kill Tone

by Lance Winkless

  Rory is sure that he hears the sound of cracking bone and for a moment, he is suddenly worried that he has killed the crazed man. A screech echoes up to Rory and the man starts to squirm where he landed. Relieved to see that he hasn’t killed him, Rory has seen enough and turns away.

  “He fell down,” Rory absently informs the others. “He is still moving though.”

  “Is he the only one?” Veronica asks.

  “The only one climbing, but there’s more crazy people clawing at the side of the tower; it’s only a matter of time before they get in here.”

  “What’s happened to the crowd, why are they going crazy?” Rose asks, looking to Bobby and Rory for answers.

  “Fuck knows,” Rory says. “It’s as if they are possessed, they are acting like zombies.”

  “Well, something’s causing it?” Rose persists.

  “Obviously, but how are we supposed to know what it is?” Bobby defends himself and Rory. “Whatever it is, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Me neither,” Rory agrees.

  “What shall we do then? We can’t just stand here and wait for them to get in, we’d be trapped?” Veronica says.

  “What else can we do?” Bobby asks.

  “Make a run for it,” Veronica suggests.

  “Are you mad? They’re everywhere out there. Where are we supposed to run to?” Rose says, shocked at Veronica’s suggestion.

  “My van is parked in the car park behind the backstage area. If we can get to it, we can get the fuck out of here,” Rory suggests.

  “How the hell are we going to get to it? It’s chaos down there?” Rose barks.

  Another bang hits the side of the sound tower, it’s smaller than the first but they all still stop for a moment.

  “Rose, we have got to get out of here!” Veronica pleads to her friend.

  “Veronica?” a voice shouts up from the stairwell.

  Chapter 13

  Daryl’s mood has lifted with each sale he has made because it means that he is closer to finishing work for the day. He has already decided not to contact Jack to re-stock when he has emptied his bag. He has made enough sales for the day and he wants to kick back and enjoy the rest of the day's music without looking over his shoulder.

  The venue is packed out, people are streaming everywhere. It’s getting hard enough to just walk around the site, never mind having to check he isn’t being watched. He has almost forgotten how busy these festivals get when the sun starts to go down and everyone congregates into the Arena to see the big performers.

  He only has a handful of pills remaining and won’t sweat it if he doesn’t sell them today; there is always tomorrow.

  Daryl is near to the dance tent, which is no fluke. The large blue and yellow tent is hosting a local DJ on stage next, named Fist. Daryl noticed he’d be playing tonight on the set time ‘app’ on his phone earlier. Fist is now a massive DJ worldwide, but Daryl remembers when he used to play the local clubs in the city, back when Daryl was somewhat younger himself.

  The tent is busy already, Daryl can see as he approaches it, after making a pitstop to get himself a drink. He is pleased to see that the audience heading for the tent isn’t entirely younger than him, there are people of his age too, making their way to see Fist.

  As he gets closer to the tent, his progress slows and people jostle to get inside. Daryl plans to get far enough inside the tent to get a good position to see the stage and to get in amongst the audience to feel the atmosphere. At over six foot tall, he won’t find it difficult to get a good view, although he will pose a problem for the people behind him.

  Groups of people have given up trying to get into the tent and are staking their claims to areas of the grass outside the tent. They are close enough to hear the music and many are already dancing and raving around to the warm-up music for Fist.

  Daryl isn’t deterred, although he does have to get a little bit physical as he pushes his way inside. The dance tent is as packed out as Daryl expected, Fist packs out clubs all across the globe, so it is no surprise he is packing out a venue in his home city. Daryl pushes on, weaving into any space that allows him to move forward. The atmosphere is electric already inside the tent, the warm-up music definitely having the required effect. Hands are raised into the air and move in time with the high tempo of the dance beat; it is really going to kick off when Fist appears on stage.

  Settling on a position slightly farther back from the stage than he had planned, Daryl takes on a more relaxed stance. He still has a decent view over the countless heads in front of him and he looks around to see who he will be enjoying the experience with.

  The crowd is a mix of men and women and there are plenty of ‘youngsters’, in their late teens or early twenties. Some of the faces look overexcited already, their bodies pumping along with the music. Daryl knows why they are overexcited and he looks down at the ground for a moment as if he is embarrassed or possibly ashamed for the part he has played in their over-excitement.

  Without delay, the warm-up music drops and flashing lights burst into life all across the stage. A low beat of music quickly builds, almost to the point that it overpowers the raucous cheers and screams of anticipation that accompany the start of Fist’s set.

  A spotlight streams down, basking Fist in bright white light as he appears, as if from nowhere behind the decks set up on stage behind a long LED screen. Daryl immediately recognises Fist as he holds his hands above his head to receive the adulation of his adoring audience. He has come a long way; Daryl has to give him that as Fist’s arms drop and he goes to work doing his wizardry on the decks in front of him.

  Fist immediately cuts in with one of his biggest, banging tunes and even more flashing lights erupt into life all around the tent and the LED screen in front of the decks shines into life.

  He has the crowd in the palm of his hand immediately, and they go wild, jumping up and down with him and waving their arms wildly in the air. The crowd moves as one, not missing a beat and not letting up as the track continues to build.

  Daryl is caught up in the moment and jumps along with everybody else. His leg muscles start to burn and his lungs start gasping but he doesn’t relent, just goes along for the ride.

  There is no chance for recovery as Fist’s first track comes to an end. He mixes straight into another banging tune and carries the crowd with him.

  The feeling of getting lost in the uplifting music, as one with the rest of the audience, is euphoric. Shivers run down Daryl’s spine and a massive smile spreads across his face as the troubles of his life fade away, and all that matters is the music. It is obvious that everyone around Daryl feels the same; they have the same broad smiles fixed to their faces and high-fives are exchanged with complete strangers.

  Fist knows his craft, and as his second banging tune draws to an end, he brings the tempo down just a smidgen. The dancing continues throughout the rammed tent, but it is less full-on. People take the moment to get their breath back and let the euphoria sink in as it starts to build again ready for the next drop. The whole of the hands of the audience reach to the sky when Fist brings the tempo down another notch, and the beat spreads out as the melody takes over. Blinding light sears across the audience from strobe lights above the stage, that immediately break into their rapid flashing. Red laser beams are fired across the top of the crowd, the effect is awesome.

  Here comes the drop, Daryl thinks as his excitement builds and he prepares to release himself into it. Daryl jumps and hits the ground perfectly in time with the drop, his euphoria reaching new heights as the lasers flick to blue and then to emerald green. The beams illuminate and pierce through the thick smoke that billows across the crowd, the loud spraying sound of the smoke machines unifying with the music.

  Daryl has been carried forward on a wave, farther into the centre of the ecstatic crowd. He goes with the flow and lets it happen, glad to get in amongst the people raving hard. Somebody suddenly stumbles and falls backwards into him. Daryl catc
hes him and is happy to help the unfortunate raver who has probably overdone his dance moves. He pulls up the young man to get him back onto his feet. As he pulls him up, however, he notices somebody else falling towards him out of the corner of his eye.

  Daryl looks up to try and stop the person banging into him and comes face to face with a twisted, monstrous face. Angry, evil eyes pierce into Daryl and the crazed man bares his teeth threateningly at him. For a split second, Daryl thinks his mind is tripping, the loud dance music bringing on a flashback. His confusion is quickly replaced by fright and panic as the creature closes in to attack him, its hands coming up like claws to grab him. In reflex, Daryl drops the man he was pulling to his feet, brings his fist back before smashing the attacker square on the jaw just as he comes into range.

  An old pain rips through the top of Daryl’s hand and he feels a bone snap. This isn’t the first time he has punched someone in anger and breaking his hand the last time he did, years ago, is a big reason he hasn’t got into a fistfight since.

  His attacker’s head whips to the side, closely followed by his neck and then finally, his whole body. He is flung to the side and the only thing that stops him falling to the ground is the people standing there who keep him on his feet. Daryl still expects him to go down; it was a good punch and it will take his legs away from him.

  Daryl almost takes his eyes off the attacker, to look at his excruciating, wounded hand, confident the man will fall. To Daryl’s amazement, the man doesn’t fall; he stays standing propped up against the people, still for a moment. Slowly, Daryl’s attacker’s head straightens back into position to his body, then his bulging eyes turn back in Daryl’s direction. Daryl’s fright turns to fear as the grotesque face looks back at him. Daryl’s punching hand is out of action and all he has managed to do is stun and piss off his attacker.

  Packed into the crowd, there is no quick escape route away from the next onslaught that will surely come. Daryl changes his stance to bring his left fist into play; it isn’t as effective as his right, but better than nothing. Tensing up, Daryl prepares himself, but suddenly the attacker is pushed by the person he is leaning against. The woman immediately regrets her action and Daryl’s attacker’s attention is diverted towards her.

  The crazed man screams a deathly scream at the woman’s face. Daryl hears the blood-curdling noise, even above the booming music. The woman is instantly terrified and goes to back away but she is blocked; there is nowhere for her to go. Daryl is forgotten, and the man claws at the woman, grabbing her and pulling her into him. She tries to fend him off, but he is too quick and too strong. Her mouth opens to scream as she recoils her head away, leaving her neck exposed. Daryl’s gasp is lost in the music as the man’s head strikes at the woman and he bites into the front of her neck, into her windpipe. Blood bursts from the woman’s neck as her eyes roll back in their sockets, her scream stifled before it started. Time stops for Daryl as he watches the man bite into the neck but it is only a second or two before the beast pulls away from the woman’s neck. Flesh, tendons and veins stretch out from the neck until they snap from around the dark red gushing hole. The woman’s arms go to move to the horrendous injury but fail to reach it and she falls away from behind the creature, to the floor.

  Daryl is frozen in shock as he watches the creature’s bloodstained mouth pull in all of the pieces of flesh and entrails, like an animal. It chews on them ravenously, with a look of hideous satisfaction, almost delight.

  A woman standing next to Daryl splits his left eardrum with a high-pitched scream before she goes to turn, to get away from the awful scene. Her scream has attracted the attention of the beast though, and when she turns to make her escape, the blood-soaked face of the creature hones in on her and springs forward.

  Hitting her on the top of her back, the creature’s new prey falls forward, parting the crowd in front of her. The beast grabs onto her back and goes down with her, biting into her right shoulder before they hit the ground.

  Daryl’s head spins as he tries to compute what the hell is happening. A crazed man is eating people, like a zombie or a vampire right in front of him and all he can do is watch as he chomps into the upper back of the woman on the floor. Has the man escaped from the lunatic asylum or has he gone mad since he has been at the festival? Perhaps he has had some bad drugs that have sent him crazy, Daryl thinks before shock hits him again and he looks down at the all but empty bag on his hip. Surely not? Daryl questions. Don’t say that I am responsible for this horror!

  There is no time to ponder the cause, as Daryl has to pull himself together, and quickly when he sees the creature’s head rise from the woman. Blood spills out of its mouth, dripping back down to stain more of the woman’s clothing.

  Whatever has turned the man into a crazed beast, Daryl has seen enough and wants no more part of it. He definitely doesn’t want those biting teeth aimed at him and he goes to back away slowly, to hide in the packed crowd and then find the nearest exit.

  Music thumps around Daryl and the crowd still bounces, oblivious to the butchery taking place in their midst. The beasts head is still lowered as it devours its meal and the people immediately around look on in confusion, their innocent brains still processing.

  On the floor, the first woman to fall is kicked by somebody who has seen the gap in the crowd to move into, that will offer a better view. The man trips over her body, almost falling over and looks to see what has tripped him up. Daryl’s glance at the body turns into a stare as it jolts unnaturally, moving more than the kick would cause. Concerned, the man who kicked the woman stoops down to see if she is okay. The woman’s body spasms violently and as the man reaches down and starts to turn her over, his eyes widen when he sees the injury to her neck. Recoiling, he doesn’t get far, his arm grabbed by the woman who Daryl thought was dead. In a flash, her head moves to his arm and her mouth opens. She bites down hard. His shock is obvious and he pushes his legs back in reflex to push away and to try and retrieve his arm from her bite. His arm breaks away from her teeth suddenly with a gush of blood, but a chunk of his flesh is left behind in the woman’s mouth as he stumbles backwards.

  Daryl’s legs nearly buckle beneath him as another wave of shock shudders through him. He pushes back into the crowd, not caring if he pisses anyone off; he just wants to get away from the chilling slaughter. He is relieved as gradually, the scene disappears from his sight and he puts a barrier of shadowy people between him and the carnage.

  Just about to turn to make his hasty retreat from the tent, Daryl hears another high-pitched scream. He stops dead like a statue; the scream didn’t come from the same direction, it came from behind him. Too afraid to look around, he tries to go right, farther into the crowd so that he can circle around and away from whatever the fuck is behind him.

  It is only then that the horrible realisation of what is happening dawns on Daryl. The music is still pumping at full pelt, but the audience isn’t dancing as one anymore; it is falling into chaos and hysteria. People are attacking one another in every direction that Daryl focuses on. Deathly screams replace screams of excitement, and the screams are rising from all around Daryl.

  Panic ensues as the crowd descends into anarchy. The audience surges back, away from the stage to try and reach the exits at the back. Whole swathes of people fall to the ground, to be trampled over by the next wave of people in a mindless panic. The attacking beasts take advantage of the chaos and rip into the melee, jumping onto the fallen to feed or taking them as they flounder to escape.

  The music is suddenly and unceremoniously cut off mid-tune. Daryl hears Fist in the back of his mind, calling for calm into his microphone, the DJ having no idea what is actually happening.

  All at once, Daryl’s wits return, his brain telling him to flee and to save himself. He does, as the crowd behind him has thinned out as those who have survived flow through the gaping exits. Daryl jumps over the fallen, swerves around the people being attacked and in-between the straddlers. The exit is close, and
he can feel the fresh air blowing through it. But then he is flying sideways, pain ripping through his ribs as he is knocked off his feet. All of the air in Daryl’s lungs is whacked out as his back hits the ground hard. He can’t breathe, stars twinkle inside his eyeballs and yet he still goes to defend himself from the creature that is squirming on top of him.

  Daryl manages to gasp in half a breath and he goes to punch the creature with his favoured hand, broken or not. Fear and adrenaline fill his entire being and he puts all his force behind his punch. His fist flies at the blurry head above him, but all he hits is fresh air. Instantly, Daryl pulls the trigger on his other arm.

  The beast’s head is quicker though; it swoops down and sinks its teeth into the flesh and muscle of Daryl’s collar. All that Daryl has left as a defence is a deep scream of defiance.

  Chapter 14

  Jack again leaves the area behind the sound tower that has no view of the main stage and hence is a relatively quiet area. He crosses the border and back into the crowd proper, pushing his way into it. He can feel the excitement building for the headline act that is about to come on stage to perform. Lady Kai is not his cup of tea but she has attracted a massive audience, he will give her that.

  Making sales has been forgotten by Jack since he saw Veronica, and he wonders if he is becoming obsessed with her? She is certainly beautiful by anybody’s standards but what is it about her that is affecting him so much? He hardly knows her, apart from one drunken night of debauchery. Maybe he is remembering her through rose-tinted glasses…more like a drunken haze, he thinks. Whatever it is, he wants to find out if she is as gorgeous as he remembers and perhaps it is fate that has put her in front of him again?

  Jack doesn’t have to push through the crowd very far to get to the barrier next to the door Veronica disappeared through into the tower. How he is going to get past the burly security guard standing with his arms crossed, blocking the entrance through the barrier is another matter. Somehow, Jack doesn’t think that donning his own security gear is going to fool the mean-looking man, who is also wearing a security lanyard, which Jack doesn’t have.