The dead spore collectio.., p.14
The Dead Spore Collection, page 14
“I used to be an engineer.”
“You won’t believe some of the weird stuff, this old man built up in our shed.”
“Fun times,” replied his dad, smiling.
“Yeah, you remember that moment when you and our neighbours had me tied up in the shed, threatening to put a bolt through my head? That was a fun time.”
“So we just wait here until the numbers reach zero?” asked Jessica. “Seems easy enough.”
“We need to get out of here,” repeated Dominic. He grabbed both sides of his dad’s head and turned him towards the gate. “The pigeons are coming home to roost.” It was utterly terrified to be in full view of the shambling march of the dead. Even these steel bars offered no reassurance. How could they? The bastards were about to open!
“Run!” He raced back down the new tunnel, distantly wondering if the psychotic fuckers who’d instigated this apocalypse were monitoring. He hadn’t bothered looking for cameras.
Dominic raced past where the tunnel had split into three, groaning aloud when the exit appeared. Why was he not shocked to discover his jacket on the floor and the door was back in place? Locked from the outside too, no doubt. So much for their government overlords not keeping an eye on them.
“No point trying it, Dad,” he muttered, while the old man frantically tugged on the handle. He left the handgun where it was and reached for the rifle. The question as to why they hadn’t just killed them had, for a moment echoed around his head until he realised they didn’t need to kill them. The dead would do that for them. He held the gun tight and prepared himself, knowing that there’s no way he’d be able to kill all of them. He wasn’t going just lie down and accept his fate though, no fucking chance.
His dad pushed past him again. Dominic grabbed his sleeve. “Are you so eager for them to eat you?”
“There’s still two more tunnels to check.”
“They’re going to be the bloody same!”
The old man shook his head. “Course not, there’s going to be a delay to stop all those things from jamming. It’s what I’d do.”
The sound of the first gate rolling open reached Dominic’s ears followed by dozens of shuffling feet entering that tunnel. The other two ran towards the middle tunnel with him close behind. He just couldn’t understand his dad’s flawed logic. Even if this next gate wasn’t open just yet, it would still have a horde of the rotting things all ready to tear off their faces as soon as the gate did open.
His dad reached the closed gate before anyone else and got to work trying to get it open. The timer on this one gave them just under two minutes. Dominic pressed his back against the wall. “Here you go, Jess,” he said handing her the handgun. “you’d better take this.”
She shook her head. “No thanks. They’re too noisy.” The girl reached into her rucksack and pulled out a short metal stake. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”
The column of corpses shambled past the tunnel entrance. Dominic knew it wouldn’t be long before they double backed once the first of the dead reached that closed door. If dad didn’t get that gate open, all he’d done was to prolong the inevitable. Only this time, they’d have to defend themselves on two fronts.
“Shit, I can’t figure it.” His dad stood up,” I don’t know, maybe we can try the remaining tunnel?”
They had another thirty seconds before that gate opened and already a line of corpses were shuffling towards them from outside. “He shook his head.” No, we stay here.” Dominic passed the pistol to his dad.
“Are you mental? They’re no way we can kill all of them.”
“Sorry, dad, it’s too late now. This is where we make our stand.” He started to smile.
“Glad you find all of this amusing.”
“Just remember which end the bullets come out, dad.” The girl stood about a foot from the gate. She shook but remained where she was. There was so much he didn’t know about either of his companions, even though he’d lived with his dad for most of his life, these recent events proved that his step father Giles Bachelor was still an enigma. “I’m smiling, old man because there’s not as many of them out there.” He joined the girl, dropped to his knees and prepared himself. The last thing he did notice before that counter reached zero was Jessica’s stake wasn’t that clean. He doubted the dried substance coating the tip was strawberry jam.
The timer reached zero just as the first dead thing’s head touched the metal bars. He fired off a single shot, hitting it in the chest. Although its pulped heart flew out of its back, all it did was stagger backwards before righting itself and moving forward again.
“Don’t you know anything?” The girl ran up to the damaged creature and slammed her stake into its left eye. It fell onto the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Headshots or nothing, Dominic.”
He nodded and adjusted his position, trying to remind himself that as long as the bastards didn’t get too close, this would be like a standard target practice, nothing to be too excited about. Dominic fired twice, both rounds hitting their targets. Two dead things went down, only to have another four take their place.
Their pace had shifted. They weren’t so slow and awkward anymore. At least three of the bastards were almost running. The girl slammed her spike into the nearest runner. She yelped in surprise, her feet sliding in a small blood puddle. She fell onto one of her victims. The two other runners, obviously sensing easy prey went for her.
“Dad, help me!” Dominic charged over to her and launched his boot into the guts of one of the runners. His blow had no effect. It felt like he’d just kicked a rolled up carpet. He pushed the muzzle hard against it’s cheek and fired before slamming the but into the other one.
“Come on, you. This isn’t the time to go to sleep. Up you get.” He selected auto-fire. “Fuck this.” He gently squeezed the trigger, almost whooping as four dead things dropped to the ground missing most of their heads.
Two more shots rang out. He turned to see his dad stood a few feet from them, taking out any creature stupid enough to shamble up this tunnel. It didn’t escape his attention to see that his dad already knew about the ‘head only’ rule.
Dominic fired again, and again. His bullets cut a thick channel through the approaching mass but it still wasn’t enough. There were still way too many of the bastards to deal with. He fired one more time, only stopping once the magazine clicked empty. He took his only remaining magazine and clicked it in.
“We’re going to die here.”
“Probably,” he answered. Dominic took aim. “My drill sergeant always told us to fire in short controlled bursts. It wasn’t until months later I found out that the bastard was quoting from a movie.”
He fired, destroying the faces of two naked teenage girls and an old man who was moving faster then he would have when he lived. Jessica stuck her spike up, under the jaw of a man then spun around and stopped another man reaching for her hair. Dominic ran into forward, slamming the butt of the gun into the faces of any dead thing that tried to bite him. He jumped onto the chest of a fallen creature and groaned when he found he could not see an end to their numbers. He stayed where he was and fired again, then urged the other two to join him. Dominic fired until his gun was empty dropped it into the scarlet wet mess by his feet and took out his knife. This really was going to be their last stand after all.
They stood back to back. He took a deep breath, watching the doll-like eyes of a blond man lurch away from the main pack. He didn’t hesitate. His blade went into the thing’s neck. Dominic twisted then pulled it out before he stabbed another one, this time; the knife plunged into the creature’s ear.
He had no time to look behind him, the thrusting crowd gave him no breathing space. Dominic grabbed the hair of an old woman pulled her head back and slammed the blade up through her lower jaw. Low grunts and the sound of bodies hitting the ground told him the other two hadn’t been overrun just yet.
The sound of gunfire changed his mind about turning around. His first thought about his dad lying about running dry vanished at the sight of two more figures stood on the lip of the gully. One of them had a rifle, the other, an old man carried a shotgun. He raised the weapon and fired, blowing away another two dead things. The woman with the rifle got to her knees and threw something over the wall.
Dominic wanted to weep in relief. It was a rope ladder. He pushed the others over to the wall and turned around, managing to take out a man in a Zed Zeppelin top before it fingernails could claw deep furrows down his arm.
Two more dead things fell to rifle shots before he felt grasping hands pull him onto the ladder. He turned and climbed as fast as he could, only allowing his emotions to overcome his shattered psyche once he had reached the safety of the ledge. He looked up into the face of his two saviours and swallowed hard before finding enough saliva to form the words ‘thank you’.
Chapter Thirteen
Sleep did not want to make an appearance for Monique tonight. She moved the green cushion out from under her thighs and moved it up the wall before finally resting the back of her head on it. She sighed loudly before grabbing the thing and throwing it along the corridor. Why was she even bothering?
It didn’t make any sense. After all that stress and anxiety she put herself through today, not to mention all that adrenalin which surged through her body a couple of hours ago, Monique thought that she’d be out like a light by now. After all, everyone else who’d come through that fucking nightmare were sleeping.
Perhaps the shock had finally caught up with her? Perhaps it was her old friend, guilt. It must be at least a full day since that thorn in her side had paid Monique a visit. Yep, she couldn’t deny it, the guilt was there alright, privately reminding Monique that thanks to her poor decision making, almost everyone she knew since this nightmare started were now dead. Hell, she hadn’t even shed a single tear for the shift demise of Michaela!
Perhaps the shock had finally caught up with her? Perhaps her old friend, guilt, had decided to pay her a little visit. It must be at least one full day since that thorn in her side had paid Monique a visit. Yep, she couldn’t deny it, there was enough evidence lying about to support that theory. She could see it too, sitting on her shoulders, privately reminding Monique that thanks to her poor decisions, almost everyone in her cosy little group was now dead. Hell, she hadn’t even grieved for poor Michaela yet.
“Fuck Michaela,” she whispered. “I’m not going to shed a single tear for that one.”
The guilt wasn’t the reason for Monique’s refusal to go to sleep. After the events of the past few hours, she really did believe that her long standing association with that particular emotion was now as dead as the things roaming about outside this building.
Her so-called rescuer sat opposite her. Just like the others, Conner was fast on. At least, he gave the impression of being asleep. Monique had spent a long time studying the man, as he slouched against the wall, quietly snoring.
Monique had fired a barrage of questions at him once he’d led the survivors into the building. The man had deflected every one relating to his identity or his purpose for coming here. He’d ensured the three kids were comfortable and even managed to get them to drink a bit of warm soup.
Conner had reassured them all that her group would be safe in here, for a few hours, anyway. Apparently, he’d booby trapped any viable exit and entrance. That was the word he’d used too. Monique rolled the word around her tongue. “Viable,” she said, watching the man twitch.
Could he be military? All Conner had said to her was that her questions would be answered, all in good time. The man had then produced a smile that she knew would melt the hearts as well as moisten the panties of many a teenage girl. Oh, he’d got that particular facial expression down to a fine art, no doubt about that.
She guessed he’d be in his mid thirties, a nice strong jaw line, covered in a weeks worth of stubble. With that shoulder length black hair, coupled with his ripped jeans and pale green t-shirt, clinging to those hard muscles, this Conner looked like he’d just been plucked from one of those crappy actions movies that Dominic used to adore.
The guy probably used to love those movies too. To give Dominic some due, he never used to dress like any of those improbable heroes. Monique sighed loudly. God, she so missed Dominic. What she’d give right now to have him here, sitting exactly in Mr Action Hero’s spot. Oh, Monique would be able to sleep then. One of her regrets of still not being together was been able to lie down on his lap. It wouldn’t matter how tired she was. His gentle stroking always smoothed away those rough edges. That fact alone was a major miracle. She’d never been the calmest of individuals back in her early twenties.
Monique closed her eyes, bringing back the memories of Dominic dragging his fingers through her soft hair.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” hissed a male voice.
She snapped open her eyes, to find Conner leaning over her. He’d placed his hand over her mouth.
He gave Monique that famous smile and moved it. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to scream out,” whispered Conner. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. We have company.”
His eyes moved up. She followed them and saw particles of dust lazily drifting down from the ceiling. Someone or something was moving around on the floor above.
She slowly stood up, arching her back to relieve the muscle ache. So she did fall asleep after all, for the good it did her. The three kids were already up and looking a lot more alive than she felt.
“Best stay nice and quiet.” Conner nodded towards the door. “It looks like one of them has gotten through my traps.”
She jumped at the sound of glass shattering, coming from the room behind that door. Oh Jesus, this hell wasn’t going to end today. So much for him saying everything was going to be okay.
“Okay, maybe two. Still, it’s nothing too serious.” He pulled a long metal spike from out from behind him. “Are you are set, Junior?” he asked, looking other at Harry.
The grinning boy had a spike as well. Her mothering instinct kicked in when she realised what this idiot was about to do. Monique only held herself back at the last second when she saw Harry wasn’t going anywhere.
Both girls leaned forward and grabbed an arm each. Monique allowed them to pull her across. The atmosphere in the room grew tense when Conner grabbed the door handle. He nodded over to harry before twisting it.
Conner fell back as the door was almost pulled off its hinges. A young girl of about Jennifer’s age ran into the room, screaming. She dived at them. Harry pushed Daisy out of the way then swung his arm in a tight arc. The spike caught the girl in the temple. The tip didn’t penetrate but the impact knocked her to the floor. Jennifer pulled her arm our of Monique’s grasp, ran over to the girl and stamped on her upper arm. The crack of bone echoed around the room. Harry fell on the girl and pushed the spike through her neck.
Monique found herself shuddering at their brutality. She knew it had to be done, it still shocked the hell out of her. They fell on that little girl like a pair of rabid dogs, without hesitation or conscience.
“Are you okay, Mon?” asked Daisy. “Come on. Conner is already through the door.”
Monique nodded and dug out a wane smile for the girl, following the three kids out of the room. She never felt so disconnected from a group of people before, like she was a product from another world.
In many ways that’s exactly what she was, Earlier on, when Monique gazed at the three sleeping kiddies, all curled up together, looking so innocent and childlike, her mind dragged up images of babes lost in the woods, poor frightened children with big heart-string pulling eyes about to discover a house made of gingerbread. She sighed, this time with an extra Gretel.
They found Conner stood over the body of another infected man with his trademark grin firmly spread across his face. He and Harry exchanged high fives. Their new token hunk would made a great fucking woodsman. Then again, after what she’d just witnessed. That witch would stand a change against these kids.
“That’s the last of them,” he announced. “At least on this level anyway.” Conner turned around and opened one of the drawers under the kitchen counter. He placed a toasting fork on the top. “That’s perfect.”
Monique watched the activity through the window behind the grinning man. Two infected ran past the window, followed by three more. Every instinct screamed at her to get undercover, to find some small windowless room and wait until those things had gone away. Why the hell was Conner still standing so close to that glass, looking like he didn’t have a single care in the world, while he bent the prongs of that fork.
Her former charges, stood by Monique, watching him silently. Odd to see they didn’t seem all that bothered about the creatures running about outside either, considering what they all witnessed in that church hall.
“Okay, that should do it.,” he said. “Okay, people, let’s finish this.”
“Finish what?”
Conner tapped his modified toasting fork. “We’re going fishing.”
Monique reached into her rucksack and pulled out a handgun. “Okay, smiler. Let’s try this again. What the fuck are you playing at?” she growled. Both girls backed away from her. Harry stayed where he was, his hand clawing down to his own weapon. That disconnection was now complete. These kids, were no longer hers. They were Conner’s attack dogs.
“Well this escalated quickly,” he said, still grinning. “What, so you’re going to shoot me now, Monique? Here I am, carrying a mutilated toasting fork, craving a bacon sandwich and, I’d like to add, saving all of your lives.”
“I just want some answers.”
“I guess if I say all in good time again, you’re going to blow my head off, knowing full well that if you do that, I won’t be the only one in here to die? Is that what you really want, honey?”
The man walked up to her. Conner winked at Harry before gently placing the palm of his hand on top of the handgun. Monique looked into his dark eyes, finding herself wanting to cry. “Please?”
