Amanda bent her legs, reaching down and pulling her clothes from between her ankles. She'd made that mistake before and had no wish to piss on everything. She cautiously released the hold on the bladder stretching urine, nervous of making any noise that might attract unwanted attention.

  Once she started it was no longer a problem and she allowed the warm stream to leave her body.

  The soft moan to her rear caused her heart to skip a beat and the act of urinating terminated itself. Amanda held her breath and remained squat in the darkness, waiting for the sound again. The silence seemed to go on forever, finally broken by another groan from off to her left.

  “You dirty bastard,” Amanda snapped, standing upright and flicking on her cap lamp. “I’ll get you sacked for this.” Anger had taken over and she was no longer bothered about a perverted mine worker seeing her semi naked. “You should have your balls cu…” The light passed over the figure stood in the shadows and Amanda’s voice was cut off.

  She moved her head back, pointing the lamp where the figure had been standing, but found nothing. Panic began to set in and she frantically spun her head from side to side in search of what she thought she’d seen.

  “Bastards,” Amanda cursed, finally pulling herself together.

  She convinced herself that the dark was playing tricks on her mind and turned her attention to getting her bottom half covered up. She bent down, grasping the shorts and panties.

  “Arseholes,” Amanda cursed as she yanked the clothing upwards and came face to face with one of the longboat passengers.

  For a split second she thought it was all part of a prank, but any hope of playful humour was lost when the corpse reached out and gripped her around the throat. Amanda released the hold on her shorts and tried hitting out at the undead creature. The blows landed uselessly on its decayed forearms, splitting the leathery skin and sending up plumes of dust.

  Amanda attempted to scream but the grip on her throat had cut off the ability to breath. This time she truly began to panic. As her vision started to blur she looked down for any sign of escape and was confronted with a new terror.

  From between the rotten fur at the Vikings waist protruded a discoloured length of flesh, the shaft covered in dried up tumours and withered skin. Amanda tried to kick out, but her legs were held captive by the clothing bundled at her ankles.

  The Viking corpse lowered her to the floor and fell upon her with a savage force. Amanda’s helmet fell from her head and the cap lamp revealed his fellow passengers, twelve putrefied corpses all lumbering towards the prize.

  Amanda’s mind thankfully shut down and she never felt the monstrous member penetrate her. She didn’t feel the skin peel away from the dead penis or the tumours burst inside her. And she never felt the teeth of many tearing at her flesh.

  *NOW*

  Michael had travelled down the main shaft with Harper. The mine manager had insisted on being taken along. He’d also wanted Fletcher present, but the University man had made his excuses and remained on the surface.

  Upon disembarking the huge steel cage that had transferred them down the shaft at thirty three feet a second they had been welcomed by Paul Adams. Michael had met the intern many times before and he showed real promise. If he could be pried from under Brandon’s wing he could have a bright future as an archaeologist. Michael didn’t recognise the other face and guessed he was one of Harper’s men.

  “Good to see you made it.” Paul gave a genuine smile, pleased to have a real expert on site.

  “Yeah, I just wish everyone was as happy about my presence.” Michael shook Paul’s hand.

  “Brandon’s an arsehole.” Paul grinned. “But he knows you’re in charge.”

  “Brandon’s the least of my worries,” Michael explained. “I had to cancel my weekend plans.”

  “How is Suzy?”

  “Pissed off.”

  “Well, if you’ve got the pleasantries out of the way could we get a move one?” Harper snarled, interested only in getting production back on schedule.

  “He’s right,” Michael added. “I’ve gotta see this for myself.”

  Harper nodded at the nameless employee and the order to lead the way was followed without question.

  ***

  Michael had never ridden on a conveyor belt before and had hesitated before following Harper’s example. He’d waited until both Paul and the mine worker, who he’d discovered was named Egger, had jumped on first. With his back-pack held firmly to his chest he stepped onto the moving belt, almost losing his footing. For a moment he feared he was going to fall and dropped to his knees and then his stomach, doing as the others had and laying flat.

  Michael soon realised the reason for the prone position. As they moved deeper into the roadway the roof lowered dramatically, flashing above Michael’s head closer than he felt comfortable with. He hugged the conveyor below him, pressing himself into the rubber as it undulated over the rollers.

  They conveyor had quickly taken Michael and the others away from the harsh lighting of the mine shaft area and the only light was now from the orange glow of the cap lamps. Michael could see the other four lamps ahead of him if he tilted his head upwards, glowing beacons that proved he wasn’t alone.

  When the conveyor unexpectedly began to slow down Michael didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. As it came to a smooth halt he made no attempt to climb down, choosing to wait and see what the others did first. He watched as the lamp at the very front moved from its place on the conveyor and out into the open roadway.

  “Egger, come with me,” Harper’s voice crackled out over a tannoy next to Michael’s head. “You two give us five and we’ll get you moving again.”

  Michael checked the head room and decided to sit up, the roof having sloped upwards and leaving plenty of space. He watched as a second lamp joined the first and began walking deeper into the darkness.

  The underground environment wasn’t what Michael had expected. He’d been caving on numerous occasions, but these man made tunnels creeped him out. The structures of steel girders and mesh that held the roadway in position had distorted over the years and he couldn’t help but picture all that earth above his head ready to come down and envelope him.

  Then there was the wind, air being drawn through the mine system by huge fans. It smelt stale, almost dead and Michael would have sworn he could taste the decay as it blew passed him. Something else came on the warm breeze and Michael cocked his head to one side and tried to listen closely. He was sure it was only the air moving through the tunnels, but every now and then it sounded like a moaning, a pained symphony played out of tune.

  ***

  Harper ran for his life. He’d seen what had become of Egger and he had no immediate plans to fall foul of the same destiny.

  They had hardly spoken during the short walk to the drive end of the conveyor, checking the emergency switches installed for the rider’s safety. Everything had appeared to be in working order until Egger shouted. “Boss, you should see this.”

  The day had started badly for Harper and he didn’t need this. What he needed was for things to move along swiftly. Delays were something he couldn’t allow and it was eating away at what little good nature he had left.

  “What now?” Harper snapped, his eyes bulging with frustration.

  Egger’s eyes where also bulging, but for an entirely different reason. Harper froze, his throat clenching as he witness the blood soaked figures ripping Egger’s stomach wide open and feeding on the loops of intestine. Harper’s stomach rebelled and a breakfast of coffee and bacon spewed down his front.

  He stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet, hoping to be unseen by the small yet frenzied crowd. His mind tried to take in what he saw, but it was an impossible sight. They looked human, but how could they be alive? Some where rotted to the pointed of being no more than walking skeletons and the rest had no right to be part of the real world.

  He recognised the woman, Amanda, from earlier in the day. At the time he’d thought about how nice it would have been to fuck her. Now, seeing her naked, the thought revolted him. Her face was torn and covered in bite marks, but it was the rest of her torso that filled him with terror.

  Her breasts were gone, leaving two glistening holes that wept blood and pus. The damage didn’t end there; a trail of devastation that lead down her stomach and to the area between her legs. Her vagina was no longer anything to lust over and Harper could only imagine that someone had pulled it inside out, a dust covered tube like sack dangling between her knees as she crouched to feed.

  Harper vomited again, the force of the retching bringing tears to his eyes. This time the undead paused from stuffing their faces with fresh gruel and looked up, a light of hunger filling their emotionless stares.

  Harper ran; puke trailing from his chin in thick strands.

  ***

  Paul had thought about moving back and joining Michael, but the silence had helped him decide to stay put. It gave him time to think about what he was involved with. He was only an intern and to be included in the first team on such a project was going to be of benefit to him in the long run. Just being attached would open a few doors others would have to wait years to get through. He couldn’t imagine how life could get any better.

  He was torn away from his dreams of the future by the ragged panting of Harper. He looked down from his place on the conveyor and saw the mine manager bent double and gasping for breath.

  “Are you OK?” Paul asked, rather stupidly.

  “Do I look OK?” Harper stood up and revealed his vomit soaked front.

  “Jesus Christ,” Paul stammered.

  “We gotta move,” Harper gasped. “Now.”

  Paul was already climbing down when he heard the groaning from the darkness.

  “What is that?”

  “You don’t want to know.” Harper looked over his shoulder. “Just move.”

  Paul let himself hang from the conveyor structure and dropped awkwardly to the floor, his ankle twisting on the uneven floor. He cried out, but Harper dragged him upright and took his weight just as two ancient arms encircled him around the neck. Without thinking he released his hold on Paul and began to struggle in an attempt to get free.

  The arms clawed at his chest and Harper thrust his head backwards with all the strength he could muster. He connected with solid bone and heard a satisfying crack as the arms loosened their grip.

  Harper yanked himself free and searched the ground for Paul, only to find the young intern coughing up blood as a corpse in matted fur clothing tore his throat out with its teeth. Paul’s face begged for help and he reached out a feeble hand.

  “Sorry.” Harper span away and, once again, he ran.

  ***

  Michael had convinced himself that the moaning sound being carried on the ripe breeze was growing louder. The more he concentrated on it the more it appeared to intensify in volume.

  ‘How do miners ever get used to this crap?’ he thought, surprised to find that he was sweating.

  He lifted the uncomfortable helmet from his head and mopped at the heavy sheen of perspiration with the sleeve of the bright orange overalls the mine had issued him. He breathed deeply and noticed, not for the first time, that the dank smell had also worsened.

  “What’s taking them so long?” Michael vocalised, his voice dulled by the subterranean environment.

  Looking up he saw a light returning, the orange dot bobbing up and down franticly. Michael replaced the helmet and began climbing down from the elevated conveyor, swaying dangerously as he swung his legs over the edge. As he clumsily descended he tried to keep one eye on the approaching light.

  Once on the ground he stood and watched the cap lamp come to a stop and a second lamp joined it.

  “Must be Paul.” Michael found the deadened sound of his own voice disturbing, the words almost nullified by the air around him.

  Disturbed quickly turned to panic when that same air and its sing-song moaning was filled with an ear piercing scream. Michael witnessed one of the lamps fall to the floor, the beam dancing its light across the ceiling as it turned from orange to a sickly red.

  Michael’s mind screamed at him to run back the way they’d come but, for some unexplainable reason, he ignored all logic and ran towards the unknown.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Harper yelled at Michael as he came into view. He didn’t stop to talk; sprinting straight passed the stunned archaeologist.

  Michael, on the other hand, stopped mid-stride, his head swivelling between the retreating Harper and the sounds of wet slurping coming from up ahead.

  “Harper!” Michael shouted.

  The mine manager made no attempt to reply, his feet kicking up a dust storm as he pounded onwards.

  “Harper!” This time the name was screamed and Harper stopped, turned around and replied.

  “Do you want to die?”

  “What?” The question caught Michael off guard.

  “Do you want to die?” Harper repeated.

  “No.”

  “Then run.” With that Harper was gone.

  “What about the others?” Michael turned back and found his answer.

  In the dim beam he saw them, a mass of clawing bodies filling the roadway. Michael’s mind threatened to spiral into madness at the sight of the seething undead. He saw what was left of Brandon and the rest of his team, half eaten torsos caked in gore and coming at him with a lust for fresh meat. Amongst his work colleagues he saw faces he had never met and would never get to know, the features ripped from their skulls to reveal glistening muscle and smooth bone.

  This waking nightmare embedded itself in Michael’s mind, but it was the half dozen corpses leading the group that made it all the worse. The bodies were decayed beyond recognition, but from the tattered remnants of clothing Michael knew where they originated.

  “Run, you daft bastard.” Harper’s yell hit him hard, but not as hard as the slap across his face. “Run!”

  Harper grabbed Michael’s arm and dragged him away from the advancing undead. Michael sheepishly allowed himself to be led, his legs working on their own accord as shock began to set in. All he could do was focus on the bright lights ahead in an attempt to forget the horror snapping at his heels.

  The doors to the shaft cage were still open and Harper pushed Michael in harshly, the archaeologist falling to his knees and sobbing. Harper paid no attention, fumbling madly with the clasp to lower the door between them and the horde of the undead creeping slowly nearer.

  “Fuck!” he cursed, the clasp slipping from his fingers and the flexible chain door falling sharply, the metal edge slicing a clean line across his palm. “Shit.” Harper clenched his fist tight, blood already oozing between his fingers.

  Harper stepped over the quivering Michael and headed straight for the control box mounted on the far wall of the cage. He depressed the ‘speak’ button with a shaking hand. “Send us up now!” he yelled, panic now giving his usual tone a weak warble.

  “That you, Boss?” Came the static filled reply.

  “Just get us moving.” Harper ordered.

  “Everything OK down there?”

  “Just get us moving or you’re looking for a new fucking job.” Harper glanced through the mesh side of the cage and his stomach turned at the sight of the walking corpses.

  “Just give me five minutes.”

  “We haven’t go…” Harper stopped talking as the sound of tearing chain filled the shaft.

  “Oh please, God,” Michael whimpered as the door fell under the weight of the undead attack.

  They flowed in like water, filling the cage with the stench of death. The Vikings fell upon Michael, tearing at him with bony fingers in their search for warm sustenance. Michael’s lips moved silently as he said a prayer, his tears of sadness and fear turned to tears of blood as the undead fed on his flesh.

  Harper backed himself into a corner and watched as the archaeologist was reduced to not much more than a tattered leather throw rug. He pushed himself into the shadows and hoped beyond hope that they wouldn’t see him. That they would finish feeding and then return to the darkened depths of the mine.

  He saw the young woman again and she returned his stare with a blind lust. She left her feeding companions and ran at Harper. A tiny squeal of fear escaped his throat and Harper felt his bladder and bowel release into his shorts.

  The thing that had once been named Amanda dragged him to the floor and pinned him down with her own body weight, her inside out genitals smothering his face as she tore at his overalls.

  Harper couldn’t breath, the damp flesh of her womb suffocating him. He beat at her sides in a vain attempt at survival, but it was too late.

  The last thing he felt were her cold hands pulling out his intestine and her rough tongue lapping at the fresh blood leaking from his dying stomach.

  “Right Boss, up you come.” The voice came over the speaker and the cage began its ascent.

  ***

  Fletcher stood at the shaft side with the news crews, an ear to ear grin on his face. He had waited years for something like this to come along and he was going to milk it for all he was worth.

  He’d already held a press conference and ensured that everyone knew that whatever the team brought back with them was down to him, Simon Fletcher.

  He was the man in charge and this remarkable discovery was all his doing. Despite the foetid aroma that had begun to taint the air Fletcher’s grin widened. This was going to make the national headlines and his name would be remembered forever.

  ****

  UNDEAD JOURNALS

  The following is a section of journal found in a burned out house. Only the final pages survived...

 

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