Monsterland (An Apocalyptic Horror) Page 8

  Seconds from moving away from the area where the window used to be, Gordon's heart almost stopped when he saw the gowned man from the evening where it all started for him. For an individual, infected or not, that had been hit by a car, he seemed in good shape. He walked nonchalantly past the guesthouse and then suddenly stopped. It glared at the damaged vehicle; then scowled 360 degrees around the area. He then quickly twisted his neck to his right and from that distance Gordon could see its wide possessed eyes, dried blood over its gown and mandible.

  Gordon held his breath as the thing seemed to be glaring at him; but it was impossible for it to see Gordon, wasn't it? Despite this frightening episode, and the basement being only a few yards away in the kitchen, Gordon's legs refused to move. He wasn't budging.

  I hope to God that these fuckers don't have some kind of super sense of smell.

  Gordon took a step back from the area where the window used to be and opened the shotgun, making sure there were shells in as he was unsure whether he had put them in or not; he had.

  He then snapped the gun shut and went back over to peer through the boarded up window. The gowned man had vanished.

  Gordon Burns produced a small gulp, and could feel the carotid pulse banging from the inside of his neck. "Shit. Where are you?"

  He took a step back once again and decided to go back to the basement. The girls needed to know about the presence from outside, but at the same time he didn't want to increase their consternation. What was he to do? Keep his mouth shut? Or tell them the truth? It was bad enough he had to tell them John had just committed suicide.

  A sudden smack against the wood made Gordon yelp in fright. He stumbled backwards, dropped the shotgun and fell over Angela Horton's body. The back of his T-shirt began to soak up the blood on the floor, and he quickly got to his feet and tried to reach for the gun. After hearing the commotion, Joan had made an appearance and another smack against the wooden boards was heard, and this time the splitting of wood was clear. This thing was throwing itself at the place, desperate to get in. Another smack saw the wood split and the possessed demon stuck his right arm fully in to grab at anything he could. Gordon picked up and raised the shotgun, but Joan was quicker to react and rammed her steak knife into its arm, just above the elbow, and into the bicep.

  It withdrew its arm and made an awful cry, almost like a prehistoric cry, and both humans ran to the basement and quickly locked themselves in before they were attacked.

  "What is it?" Sue was hiding in the corner, and neither Joan or Gordon answered her. They bolted the basement door shut and listened to the racket the polluted person was creating. After thirty seconds the noise and its screaming had stopped.

  Now what?

  Gordon and Joan remained sitting on the top of the steps and were both heavy breathing; their intake and outtake of breath were done together.

  Gordon then said, "It seems to have calmed down. One thing for sure, we can't stay down here anymore."

  "And go where?"

  Gordon shrugged his shoulders. "Does this place have an attic? I'd rather be trapped above than down below."

  "What difference does it make?" Joan spoke with contempt. "If you're trapped, you're trapped. And where in the blue fuck is John?"

  "He's dead." Gordon decided not to sugar coat what he had seen, and told them straight. "I found him in an empty bath. He'd cut open his wrists."

  "For fuck's sake." Joan began pacing the floor. "Are you okay?"

  Gordon released a sarcastic smile. "Well, it's something I'm...we're becoming used to now, isn't it?"

  "And how did that thing attack the house?" asked Joan. "Was you making a noise?"

  Gordon answered Joan, and wasn't incensed by the accusation. "I think it...smelt me. I can't think of any other reason why it did what it did. I'm pretty sure it didn't see me. Or maybe it was when I snapped the shotgun shut." He was unsure.

  "Well, this seems to get better and better." Joan was still pacing the floor, determined to wear out the carpet, and added, "Why do you think that thing was wearing that gown? You reckon it was an escaped mental patient or something?"

  "It was the same gowned man I told you about."

  "The man that was hit by your jeep?"

  Gordon nodded. "I obviously didn't do a very good job. I think it must have come from a hospital. It was probably attacked like many others, but I have no idea how it ended up in the middle of nowhere."

  Gordon took his T-shirt off and put on a spare that was sitting in the corner of the basement. Another black one. He then turned to Sue. "How are we all gonna get through this...without being infected?"

  Sue shook her head, the expression on her face was blank. "We're not."

  Chapter Twenty

  "Give us a break," snapped Gordon and began to grind his teeth because of his nervousness.

  The group had sat in silence for ten minutes and the sounds of more banging had startled them. Joan, Sue and Gordon hugged one another and sobbed as the noises became more raucous. It sounded like the front door was being battered and Gordon couldn't understand why they were doing it.

  If they were doing it because they knew people were inside, then how did they know?

  "We're trapped," Sue sobbed. "We're trapped in this damn basement."

  "Attic," said Joan, "before they get in."

  "We'll never make it."

  "Not if we keep on dithering down here."

  "Oh..." Gordon clasped the shotgun and shook his head. "Fuck it."

  He quickly stood to his feet and went up the steps of the basement. The three of them crept out, went through the kitchen, and along the hallway with hesitant feet.

  They could hear the splinter of wood as some were trying to get through the front door and the boarded up living room window. They trotted up the stairs and Sue went into the bathroom.

  "Not there," Gordon sniped.

  A scream was released from Sue as she clocked Stripy John's body, and this fuelled the perseverance of the creatures from outside to get in.

  "Where's the attic?" Gordon asked Joan.

  "Dunno." She shrugged her shoulders. "I thought you knew."

  "Bollocks!"

  More sounds could be heard from downstairs and an angry cry shook the frames of Gordon, Joan and Sue.

  Some of them were in.

  "Where the fuck's Sue?" Joan twisted her neck, looking along the landing.

  "This way," said Sue, appearing from the main bedroom.

  All three went into the room. Sue pointed at the hatch that was situated in the corner and Gordon immediately jumped and pulled on the hatch, opening it and revealing stepladders that slowly came down and touched the floor.

  Another crash was heard from downstairs, making Sue shriek, and Gordon advised both females to go up, then climbed up himself with the shotgun in his left hand. The girls were now in the attic, urging Gordon to hurry up as thuds could be heard. They were coming up the stairs! As soon as Gordon reached the top they pulled up the stepladders, which also closed the hatch, and could see the first few running into the room.

  The three of them huddled together and jumped when the hatch was hit hard. They all looked at one another.

  "They're trying to jump up." Gordon bent down and placed his ear against the hatch. The room below was full of them now, but Gordon was confident that they couldn't get in. He sat back and looked at the frightened girls. He held his hands up and could see they were shaking.

  "I can't stop shaking," said Gordon, quietly.

  "I wonder how long it'll be before they get bored and leave." Sue was sitting down and had her knees tucked into her chest.

  "They might not give up," Joan said. "The fuckers might not leave until we're dead, until they've starved us. We may have to use that and go along the roof." She pointed up at the skylight.

  "We can't go out there on foot," groaned Gordon. "They'd pick us off eventually. There ain't many places to hide in the Pennines."

  "I still can't get my head around w
hat's happening." Joan shook her head.

  Sue then burst into tears and both Gordon and Joan glared at one another. Temporarily, with all the hullabaloo that had been happening, they had forgot that this woman had lost her boy.

  Gordon leaned his head back and thought about his Nan's funeral, the drive across the Pennines, the attack by the gowned man, being taken in by the Hortons, the guesthouse being attacked...

  Jesus, what a weird and fucked up few hours this had been!

  He took a look around the attic to see Joan and Sue staring into space. They were all in shock, and Gordon knew that it could take days for this to settle in.

  But why now? Why did it have to happen now?

  The threat of world destruction had been present for decades. The Cold War had put the world on high alert. Stories of meteorites hitting the Earth and terrorist organisations had always placed doubts over the safety of the planet, but not this! No expert had predicted this! Yes, there were preppers out there, mainly from the US, and had been ridiculed for years by other people, and Gordon was one of them.

  Who was laughing now?

  Gordon was sitting and, like Joan and Sue, was silent and had his knees tucked against his chest. They stared into space, listening to the sounds of snarling and manic feet from below. It sounded like the whole house was now littered with these things, and there was nothing they could do but wait it out.

  Maybe they would go away. Maybe they wouldn't go away.

  Gordon looked up to the skylight, then saw the other two women look up. They were all thinking the same thing and hoped that going through the skylight was something they didn't need to do. They didn't have the time to grab food and water before they went into the attic, so time wasn't on their side.

  All they could do now was pray.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Twenty minutes of watching TV and two cigarettes and three coffees later, Marvin stood up and decided that he should somehow block off his living room and bedroom window.

  Cupboards! It was the only thing he could use.

  He had no planks of wood and hammer and nails, and even if he did the noise would be a concern. He didn't give a fuck about Agnes or the rest of the people in the building, including the family with the five-year-old boy with cerebral palsy. Fuck 'em. I need to look after myself, because no one else is going to.

  He took a trip to the toilet and had a piss. The urine was an awful light brown colour, which was down to the alcohol consumption the night before, and the three coffees didn't help either. The main door to the building was an electronic controlled-door which only allowed visitors in if the residents buzzed them in, so initially that wasn't a problem for Marvin. If he kept quiet, he was sure that these Runners would be no more by the end of the week once the government got it all under control.

  A smash of a window could be heard in the distance, and this made Marvin twitchy. He looked out of the living room window and couldn't see anything, but he began to hear screams. They were coming from across the hall. Agnes' flat. He looked outside again and saw Agnes' partner jumping out of his ground floor window and running. He was being pursued by one of those things that also left the flat via the window.

  "Shit. Agnes." Marvin placed his hand over his mouth, a little guilty for doing nothing. He then heard the door across the hallway open and he quickly ran over to his to look through the spy-hole. Agnes was sporting a wound on her shoulder and collapsed in the hall. Marvin shook his head. And that spineless bastard of a partner just ran off and left her.

  Marvin didn't care about many people, but he certainly was no coward. He opened the door to see if there was anything he could do for her, but by the time he opened it she was lying face-down on the hallway's concrete ground.

  He wedged his door to make sure it wouldn't shut on him, then went over to see how she was. He crouched down, head still thumping, and touched her face. "Agnes? Agnes, you better move your arse, there's..."

  Her eyes opened, they were bloodshot, and she hissed which made Marvin fall backwards. She jumped to her feet, and Marvin knew that she was infected, just like the woman that was attacked in the street.

  He ran to his door but could feel the hands of Agnes grab his shoulder. They both fell inside his flat and onto the floor. Marvin was on his back and the infected Agnes was on top of him, scratching and snarling at him, but Marvin had his hands around her throat and squeezed as hard as he could. It seemed to be working.

  Her eyes rolled back and he could feel she was weakening. She then fell to the side, leaving Marvin gasping for breath. He stood up and closed his door and turned to see that Agnes was still on the floor. He could see she was still breathing, and didn't know what to do next. He saw on the news that these things were relentless, but they were still human, just infected.

  If he killed Agnes, would that make him a murderer? Probably, but he couldn't take the risk.

  He pulled out the marble chopping board from the kitchen side and held it over her head. He looked away, then dropped it, wincing once he heard a clunking noise. He took a knife from the kitchen drawer, walked away without checking the damage he had caused and took another look outside. There didn't seem to be as many Runners, but the screams could still be heard.

  Then a Runner came hurtling down the road on its own. It was a female teenager, and she suddenly clocked Marvin staring at her. She ran at him with speed that he didn't think was possible and, knowing she was going to be smashing through the window, he gulped and took a step back.

  She went through, sending glass everywhere, but she didn't get a chance to take a bite out of him. She ran at him manically and soon stopped once Marvin rammed the knife into the middle of her throat, then pulled it back out. It stood and stared at him with her red eyes, blood oozing out of her wound, then dropped to the floor in a heap.

  Engulfed in panic he ran for his bathroom, still clutching the knife. He slid the bolt and locked the door. He sat with his back against the door and tried to control his breathing. He needed to get out, but he was too scared.

  "What the fuck am I gonna do?"

  He sat on the bathroom floor and never moved, adrenaline keeping him alert. He glared at the frosted window of his bathroom and was expecting, any second, that one of those things would try and get in, but it had all gone quiet. The odd scream was heard, and the moaning of a passing vehicle, but Marvin felt reasonably safe. He was out of sight and remained quiet. He looked up at the frosted window and kept on looking as the day eventually dulled in colour.

  Eventually, still clutching his knife, Marvin fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Hours had passed; the boredom was suffocating and the noises from the first floor below them had dissipated, but there was some still inside. They could hear them.

  Sue finally broke the silence between the three of them, and said quietly, "Do you think they'll be gone soon? I think some have left."

  Neither Gordon or Joan answered the woman. They had no idea.

  "Do you think they'll be waiting outside for us? Can they smell us?" Sue asked more impossible questions that couldn't be answered.

  Gordon exhaled hard. "I don't know, Sue. All I know is what we've seen on TV. And it wasn't much. We still don't know how it all happened. I'm guessing some kind of laboratory faux pas, but that's just me guessing."

  "They reckon it takes thirty to sixty seconds to turn," added Joan, knowing that Sue wasn't present when they all watched the TV footage in the Horton's living room. "Which is why they don't really eat much of you. As soon as you're infected, you're left alone and then you turn. We're not sure of their behaviour though."

  "What do you mean?" quizzed Sue.

  "Well...they're still human, but I'm not sure they can drive and speak. They can obviously run and jump, but I think they've lost some skills due to the infection. Maybe they've just forgot how to do certain things."

  "Can they swim?"

  Joan smiled. "I don't know. I don't think so."

  "C
an they be clever?"

  Gordon tried to stifle a snigger and stopped when Joan flashed him an evil glare.

  "What do you mean?" Joan asked.

  Sue thought for a moment. "Can they be sneaky? I mean...if we sneak off outside and they jump out on us..."

  "You mean...ambush?"

  Sue nodded.

  "I don't know if they're sneaky, but what we do know is that if you're getting chased they will not stop until they catch you."

  Sue stroked her chin in thought and said, "But if they are human, they should get out of breath like any other person could."

  Gordon nodded. "That's actually a good point. They can die like any of us. I shot one in the chest with Christopher's gun and it never got back up. So why not get out of breath, or even suffer stitch?"

  Said Sue, "So they can die if they are on fire?"

  "Well, you hit one with your jeep when you first arrived, and that seemed to have damaged it. So they can pretty much die like the rest of us. If you hit a dog with your car, it'll die. If you hit a dog with your car and it has rabies, it'll die."

  "So these people have rabies or something?"

  "No, Sue," Gordon laughed. "I'm just saying that these things are not super-human, they're infected and can die just the same way as you and I could."

  A quilt of silence smothered the three of them for a couple of minutes until Gordon spoke up. "I need a shit."

  "Oh charming." Joan didn't know whether to laugh of not.

  "I'm sorry, but I really do."

  "I could go for a wee." It was Sue's turn to speak. "And I'm so thirsty."

  Joan said, "Me too."

  Gordon sighed and shook his head. "We're gonna have to leave. You know that, don't you?"

  Sue and Joan gaped at one another and didn't look pleased at the reality check Gordon Burns had given them. If they stayed in the attic for days, dehydration and starvation was going to kill them if the beasts didn't.