Cassie (Adrian's Undead Diary Book 8) (27 page)

BOOK: Cassie (Adrian's Undead Diary Book 8)
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The woman that had been helping the injured man was struggling with him now, wrestling, attempting to hold him still as the newly arrived police officer took stock of the situation, and radioed in for medical assistance. Even six floors away both women could see the younger cop’s mild panic and confusion as he tried to put two and two together. Just as he finished up with the radio attached to his collar, the woman holding the man down lost her battle. An errant hand that was half balled into a fist struck her in the eye, momentarily dazing her. When she recoiled, defenseless, the injured man grabbed at her, tugging her down and biting her severely over and over. He bit her face shoulder, and neck, tearing away her blouse in the process. The young cop finally reached the terrible assault and grabbed the woman, yanking her away from her assailant.

The teeth of the man were still lodged in the soft meat of the inside of her arm. A massive lump of bloody pink flesh tore free as the policeman yanked her away. Neither woman could hear the lady’s blood curdling roar. The cop’s noble attempt to save her, doomed her. The artery in her arm had been severed, and a jet of fresh blood sprayed the ground errantly. The cop tumbled to the ground, the dying woman fading quickly on top of him.

Things went from horrible to completely wretched then. Melanie and Cassie grabbed each other and looked away as the woman and the man quickly turned on the cop and the witnesses gathered around. The officer pulled his weapon out and shot hastily from the hip several times as the man who bit the woman chewed away at the cop's legs and arms. He pulled the trigger rapidly as the dying woman twitched, and spasmed, hitting his intended targets as well as a few of the innocents. None of his shots seemed fatal, despite tearing through the chests of the man scratching and biting at him. As his gun clicked empty, he succumbed to the score of fresh bites on his arms and legs. The small handful of people he’d shot accidentally were either collapsed in the street clutching at their wounds, or were already actively seeking out those around them they could harm. It was like a switch for maliciousness being turned. Death triggering a homicidal rage towards any and all nearby. The woman who died in his arms was already getting to her feet, murder in her eyes.

Cassie knew what was happening. She'd seen it before in countless bad horror movies. She backed away towards the conference table, holding Melanie’s hand firmly until both women bumped into the sturdy wooden furniture. They stared at the window as if the horror on the street below would somehow climb its way up the side of the building and smash a window to get inside straight to them.

“Ladies I’m going to ask to you to leave if you can’t respect this meeting. Your rudeness is appalling,” Alan said with irritation in his voice, his finger on the mute button of the phone once again. His look of utter disgust was palpable.

Cassie turned and looked over Melanie’s shoulder at the pompous prick. She let go of Melanie’s hand and walked around her, casually and confidently removing his finger from the mute button. She stared him fiercely in the eye, daring the man to say a word to her. He was shocked at her imprudence, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry, but there’s been an emergency here in the office, and we need to bring this meeting to a close. We apologize for the abrupt end, but we really must go.” Cassie ended the phone call with another button, never taking her eyes off the man who signed her paychecks. “Alan, several people were just killed outside the building downstairs. A policeman was one of them. We need to go watch the television to find out what the hell is happening outside. We might be in a lot of danger.” Cassie had learned how to scare people years ago watching her boyfriend Adrian. As a bouncer and soldier he had developed a hell of a knack for it. It helped he was a big guy, but she was a redhead, and could fake crazy like it was a hobby. Cassie was hoping she was a quick learner.

Alan’s eyes furrowed into anger, “Ms. Mackenzie, this had best be serious business, or you can consider this your last day at this firm.”

“Alan, this might be the last day at this firm for everyone if it’s as bad I think it might be. Go look out the window.”

*****

The phones died less than ten minutes later. When the three office workers departed the lavish conference room they found an office almost completely devoid of coworkers. The cubicles were empty like dug graves in a cemetery. The few remaining people were gathering their coats and most important belongings off their desk and leaving like rats scurrying off the proverbial sinking ship. It looked like a bad disaster movie to Cassie. It felt like a horror.

The feisty redhead went directly to the break room where the television entertained and informed no one. What remained of her coworkers stood there, slack jawed as the news played out in front of them. The morning’s reports of attacks across the world had become far more serious. In the morning it was still a joke, still “unconfirmed” and still “speculative.” Now the world had evolved into an emergency response footing. Now they were giving out evacuation instructions. Now they were giving out locations of where you shouldn’t go. Where it was worse.

Cassie sought out the remote as Mel started to rant, “Why didn’t anyone come and find us? Why did they all leave us here alone? Everyone must’ve known what was happening. I don’t understand!” Mel’s demeanor was slowly coming unraveled. Watching people die in front of your face could do that to you.

“They didn’t know we were supposed to be in the conference room Mel. Impromptu meeting? They probably saw our empty desks and just figured that we’d left already. Shit, everyone left here in a fucking hurry it’s not like anyone took the time. Alan, can you try the phone on Mark’s desk right there and see if you can dial 911? I’m getting the local news.” Cassie thumbed the black plastic remote a few times, scrolling to the local news station she liked the most.

The female anchor was resolute. You might even say stoic. She delivered the news of the city and state falling apart as if it were a solemn tragedy that had already happened. The state border had been sealed for a brief time to keep it out, whatever “it” was, but that seemed to be failing. Reports were coming in from various locations across the state indicating that whatever was happening was going to happen here no matter how well guarded the borders were. Cassie’s gut feeling was correct. Any death resulted in gory, horrific reanimation just like they'd seen in the street below. It was just like one of Adrian’s silly horror movies.

“The phones appear to be dead,” Alan said with detached emotion. He sat the useless handset in the cradle. He stood between the two women, staring blankly at the screen.
 

“Did you try a cell phone?” Mel asked him quickly, almost desperately.

“No— I... I didn’t.” Alan reached into the pocket of his expensive slacks and fished out a black touch screen phone. He unlocked it and dialed his wife at their house. After a few attempts, he put the phone away in his pocket and simply shook his head. "Dead," he said. Both women sighed in unison.

“We need to leave here. We need to get out of the building and get home. If this is real, then we need to get out of the city. We should leave right now,” Mel said to Cassie. She’d already disregarded the presence of the lost company executive.

“I think we need to wait a bit Melanie. There’s got to be ten of those things down at the main entrance already. We have no idea what the rest of the city looks like,” Cassie said, thinking hard about what Adrian would tell her to do. She wished he was there right now. He’d be calm, in control, ready. He’d have a plan.

"How did it get this bad this fast?" Mel asked, watching the anchorwoman deliver more bad news.

Cassie had a good idea how it became so terrible. "People don't take it seriously fast enough. It's a joke. Or faked for a show. Or they try and help, and get bitten like that woman, and that cop. We haven't started fighting back yet. So more die trying to help. What do you think is going to happen when the paramedics arrive down there?"

Mel didn't answer. Everyone knew they'd try and help, and probably get killed trying. “What about the back exit from the lobby? We zip downstairs, and head out the back?” Mel said. Cassie looked at her and saw the desperation in her eyes. The plan wasn’t the worst. It made sense. They could even avoid the lobby area by taking the service elevator…

“Let’s try it. Gather your stuff.” Mel and Cassie scattered, leaving Alan to catch up moments later.

*****

Ding
, went the elevator door as it opened. The smooth stainless steel doors slid open slowly, revealing a burnished metal interior that was empty of either the living or the dead. The madness had yet to invade the elevator. The three coworkers slid into the small metal box and hit the button labeled “G.” When the door hesitated to shut immediately, Mel started machine gunning the “Close Door” button. The elevator responded to her rapid fire finger and sealed them into their doom.

As the cables above reeled them down slowly the three leaned against the walls of the elevator. The motion of descent made all of them feel safer, like progress was being made. It made them feel as if they would survive.
 

From somewhere else, far outside the building they felt a brief impact. A slight tremor, a slight shake. Something had happened that shook the building so powerfully that they could feel it, deep inside the concrete bowels of the tower they were attempting to escape from. Something far above them let loose a metallic, grinding screech. The floor they stood on vibrated intensely, like an earthquake was happening right below them, and the elevator lurched to an abrupt stop. The two women and one man had enough time to look each other fearfully in the face before the lights flickered, and went out for the last time. They’d never see the light again alive.

In the pitch blackness of the industrial coffin they were trapped in, Cassie’s voice said everything any of them could’ve mustered.

“Fuck.”

*****

Mel hit the emergency call button almost immediately. Her heavy breathing and sweaty brow was enough to alarm even the calmest of people, but she retained control enough to sit with her hands knitted together tightly. The emergency phone in the elevator went unanswered. No firemen picked up to offer their help. The emergency lights never came on either. Cassie cursed at the dead plastic panels in the ceiling for hours upon hours under her breath as they used the screens of their phones for light. After four hours they decided to go without. There was no reason to have light all the time. Plus on the off chance the cell phone networks returned, they wanted some battery left to make the phone call that might save their lives.

As Cassie looked at her phone’s clock tick past ten pm, she knew things were bad, very bad. Mel and Alan had long since slipped into sleep. Alan had taken the situation with a shrug of his shoulders. Neither woman could tell if he simply didn’t care, or if he was incredibly confident in the emergency services. It didn’t matter. He sat there quietly, listening to Mel talk incessantly about her ten year old boy and how she needed to get home to him.

The two women had tried to pry the roof hatch open, as well as the elevator doors, but both were sealed shut. They had no tools, no weapons to speak of, and after both women had shattered almost all their nails trying to pry either exit open, they sat down in the dark, defeated. Mel succumbed to exhaustion an hour after Alan.

Cassie sat awake and very much alone for many hours after, waiting and hoping someone would come to them.

*****

Thirst is a terrible enemy. It persists, growing in power every hour until is unstoppable, and unavoidable. It takes away your strength, your stamina, your focus, and eventually your dignity. Hunger may seem worse to the mind, but it's thirst that will kill you first. Thirst’s power is so inevitable that unless quenched, it doesn’t take long to succumb to.

After the first few days (or was it just a day? Or a full week? Cassie couldn’t tell anymore) they had the suicide discussion. The phones were still dead, the air in their box was rank, and the elevator doors were no closer to being open. Was it better for the three of them to just unravel separately, at their own pace, and hope for the best? Or was it better for them to find a way to die simultaneously?

Mel wanted to fight, to stay alive as long as possible. Alan wanted to take the small container of nitroglycerine out of his pocket, and simply slide the contents under his tongue, sending his already rickety heart into a tailspin. Cassie wanted to wait, to fight the dehydration for another day or two and hope that help came.

It was hard to tell the hour of the day. They’d given up checking for the time anymore, and so many days into their isolation the lack of water and food had taken its toll. Cassie had fallen asleep, that much she knew. Her stomach had stopped growling and gnawing at her insides finally but her head had been swimming. It was hard to listen, and harder still to form sentences. Her tongue was swollen. It felt thick, and cottony in her mouth. She knew it was the lack of water. It didn’t help that they’d been using Mel’s purse as a shit receptacle either. The stench in the elevator was nearly unbearable.
 

Cassie was woken up by a strange noise beside her.

The noise sounded wet. It sounded like someone eating. She heard a soft squishing noise followed by something akin to the sound of a celery stalk being eaten. Her empty stomach convulsed as her nose caught wind of what she imagined to be exposed bowels. Someone had died in the elevator. Alan most likely.

“Oh no—“ Cassie planted her palm over her mouth, trying to stuff the escaped words back in. It was too late. She heard a sudden void of noise coming from where the original sounds of eating came from. Something had stopped to listen for her. Cassie's hand had been played, and she was about to be eaten alive too, just like the poor bastards in the street so many days ago, when this all started.

A new sound came. In the darkness Cassie’s mind raced to fill in the visual. She thought it had to be two blood soaked hands being rubbed together in dreadful glee at the prospect of a new victim, a new dish. Her mind jumped again. Instead this time the noise was a red, slick tongue sliding across and around gore covered lips. Either scenario made her sluggish heart rumble to life.

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