Domain of the Dead (21 page)

Through the pain of the bite, Patterson’s only thought was that even if he won his struggle with his dead Captain, he had already lost.

* * *

Sarah was awake and standing by her bunk even before she knew what had woken her.

“Did you hear that?” Bates called out at the guard.

The guard was wiping his eyes and looking confused. “What the hell was that?”

“Just a minute—I’ll go out and check,” Bates offered. “No, wait—I’m locked in a fucking cell!”

“Just wait there,” the guard instructed.

Bates cocked his head. “
Ya think
?”

There was a heavy clunk then the lights flickered. The fluorescents tinkled and plinked, growing dim and then sparking bright again. Suddenly the electrical hum stopped and the lights went dead.

Sarah gasped, shocked by how complete the darkness was. With a clunk the red emergency lights popped into life. The red glow made the surroundings and everyone around look darker and more sinister than the stark white fluorescents.

Everyone froze as a second spray of shots rang out. The noise was stifled behind walls, but it was still clear enough to be unmistakable.

“I’ll phone the bridge,” the guard said nervously. His hand shook as he lifted the receiver.

As he was about to dial the number the klaxon burst to life. The guard almost dropped the phone.

“Come on, let us out!” Bates implored.

The guard adamantly stuck to his orders. “I’m calling the bridge.”

Shouts, screams and weapons fire now seemed to come from all over.

“Come on,” Bates urged.

The guard shook his head. “It’s just ringing out.”

“You’ve got to let us out! The shit’s going down out there and we’re caged up!” Bates rattled the bars for emphasis.

Scraping and scratching sounds accompanied by guttural moans emanated from behind the brig door.

Everyone took a step back deeper into the brig.

The guard pressed up against the bars and looked over his shoulder into the cell. “I... I...”

In the midst of the guard’s stammer a stream of machinegun fire opened up from somewhere in the corridor and a line of bullet holes erupted across the wall.

Sarah felt a hard blow across her shoulder and she fell to the floor. The impact with the cell floor knocked the wind from her. Coughing, she tried to breathe but there was a weight on her chest.

Bates slid off Sarah’s back and onto the floor beside her.

Laying almost nose to nose with her he whispered, “You okay?”

Catching her breath, Sarah just nodded.

“Sorry if I pushed you down a bit hard,” Bates said. “Instinct.”

Sarah whispered out her thanks and lay there happy it hadn’t been a bullet that had slammed into her. Bates still had his arm around her in a protective hug and he was looking off to the door of the brig expectantly. Sarah found herself examining his face. The stark red lighting sent a dark shadow down from his narrow nose across his elegant, almost feminine chin. Pulses of warm breath blew across Sarah’s lips as Bates steadied his breathing. The darkness around his eyes pulled her gaze in. He had long, elegant eyelashes for a man. With the saturating hue of the emergency lights, Sarah couldn’t make out or even remember the colour of his iris, but they had a seductive quality to them in this light.

Bates looked away from the door and caught Sarah’s gaze. From just inches apart they stared at each other. Sarah was startled by the intensity of the connection between them. His pupils dilated as she watched and she became aware they had both stopped breathing.

Suddenly Sarah became painfully aware of how long she had been staring at Bates. The red light saving her blush from being spotted, Sarah batted her eyelashes and looked away, a nervous smile curling on her lips.

“Everyone okay?” Bates whispered, breaking the nervous quiet.

There was a round of hushed replies.

A second roar of machine gun fire forced the brig’s occupants to stay flat against the deck. With the sound of popping of steel, a spree of shots punctured their way through the corridor wall. Through the arc of jagged perforations, glimpses of light and shadow could be seen flickering on the other side. And with the presence of the holes, the noises from outside were no longer muffled. A chorus of undead wails echoed around the ship. Sporadic gunfire in the near and far distance could be heard. Occasionally a scream or a curse could be distinguished above the noises.

“What the hell do we do?” Nathan asked.

No one answered.

Bates pushed a finger through the bars and prodded the guard. “And for fuck’s sake don’t say
I’ll call the bridge
.”

“Well?” Nathan asked.

“The first thing to do is let us out.” Bates had kept his voice low but the clipped words conveyed his anger.

“I’m going to check the door,” the guard said.

Reticently he got to his feet. He stood there for a moment listening out for danger—or trying to find an excuse to lay back down. Slowly he crept his way to the door, freezing at the slightest sounds.

He reached the door, unholstered his gun and cocked the weapon with a sharp click.

Sarah could see beads of sweat across the man’s forehead caught by the unnatural red light.

He stood at the side of the door and reached out for the handle. Turning the lock, he eased the door open a fraction to peer through. The door flew open and in burst a zombie. The guard leapt back, firing wildly as he did.

Sarah instinctively ducked, covering her ears against the thunderous noise of the gun. The din of the gun blast seemed to be amplified against the cold metal bulkheads, with the sound smacking around the small brig almost as violently as the shots themselves.

Two more cadavers heaved their way into the brig and towards the guard. All of the zombies wore military uniforms and all of them looked freshly resurrected. Panicking, the guard fired repeated shots at the creatures. Some of the shots struck the dead crewmen but none of them delivered a coup de grâce.

“Take aimed shots!” Bates shouted above the clamour. “Just one at a time!”

Backed up against the wall, the guard took careful aim at the lead zombie. He pulled the trigger and the bullet found its target. A neat hole erupted just above the bridge of its nose. The exit wound was not as neat. The back of the zombie’s skull shattered.

The guard swung his aim round, but the other two zombies were too close. He tussled with them, trying to get his gun in a position to fire while avoiding a bite. The gun went off and the second zombie dropped, but before the guard could switch his attention the third creature clamped its jaws around his neck.

The guard’s face contorted as his scream threw his mouth open. The zombie pulled back, ripping open its victim’s neck. Seizing back the initiative, the guard shoved the gun into the zombie’s face and pulled the trigger.

The corpse crashed to the floor.

Blood gushed from the guard’s wound, pulsing out with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Stumbling over to the entrance, blood pouring from his neck, he pushed his shoulder into the door, heaving it closed. Exhausted by his exertion, he slid to the ground, his back to the door, one hand on his gun and the other clamped over his neck, the blood flooding out from between his fingers.

Sprawled against the door, the guard looked into the cell. “I’ve been bit.”

His voice was weak and even in the red light his face looked pale. He lifted up the gun, opened his mouth and pushed the barrel inside.

“No, wait!” Bates screamed as the trigger was pulled.

There was a sharp click as the hammer struck the firing pin, but nothing else. The guard removed the gun from his mouth and looked at it in confusion. The magazine was empty.

Bates let out a sigh as he blew out the breath he’d been holding. His muscles slackened in relief. “You’ve got to let us out off here first!”

Sluggishly, the guard fell forward onto his knees, one hand covering his wound, his gun hand knuckles down supporting him he shuffled forward like a lame dog. His eyes flickered as if fighting against sleep. His head fell limp and his joints buckled, sending him crashing to the deck. His hand fell free of his neck and the very last few drops of blood trickled out to drip onto the brig floor.

“Ah, fuck man!” Bates kicked the bars in frustration. He spun round, both hands running through his hair. His well defined muscles were ridged with tension and he looked as if he would start tearing his hair out at any moment. He stamped his foot on the deck. “Fuck!”

“What do we do now?!” Nathan exclaimed.

“Not much to do,” Bates said, pacing the length of the cell. “Hope we get rescued before we starve to death in here.”

“We’d die of thirst first.” Sarah said, looking through the bars in dismay.

Bates rubbed his head the way he had when he’d taken his helmet off in the chopper. The action seamed to calm him down. “Die of thirst? That’s comforting... I think.”

Sarah got down on her knees.

“I don’t think praying’s going to help,” Bates said.

Laying down on the cell floor, Sarah squeezed up to the bars. She laid side on so as to get as much reach as possible with her arm. “I think I can grab him.”

“The keys!” Bates rushed over. “You’re going to pull him in and get the keys off his belt.”

Nathan stood with a pinkie in his ear, waggling it to try and subdue the ringing from the recent gun shots. “You’re doing what?”

“She’s getting the keys,” Bates said slowly and with exaggerated mouth movements.

“That’s the idea.” Sarah huffed as she adjusted her position and stretched out her slender arm.

It slipped with ease between cold metal bars and out towards the dead guard, her fingertips just touching the man’s shirt. She tried jamming her shoulder into the gap between the bars to get that little bit further.

Wedging herself further, Sarah grunted as she pawed for the shirt, but he was just too far away. Shifting her position slightly, she turned her head away from the corpse and stretched her left arm out across the floor for purchase. Her head tilted away, putting her neck in a more relaxed position, affording the muscles around her shoulder joint more flexibility and mobility. Using her left hand for purchase, Sarah pushed her shoulder flat and eased it out through the bars. She walked her fingers onto the dead guard’s shirt and up to a seam. Again she couldn’t get far enough up to grasp the shirt. Pushing her fingertips against the fabric as hard as she could, she tried to snag the cloth and pull it back. She reasoned that if she could pull enough back she could then maybe get a proper grip. Her nails rasped against the cloth trying to gain purchase as she pulled her hand back. Her knuckles blanched with the pressure and the muscles turned first pink, then red, until finally turning purple from the pressure. Her whole arm trembled from the exertion.

Nathan and Bates whispered their encouragement. Slip followed tug over and over again. Sarah closed her eyes, frustrated by her lack of success and the hindrance of facing the wrong way to be able to see what she was doing.

She screwed her eyes up tight and let out a hiss of breath to convey her annoyance. With her eyes closed she could concentrate on the feel of cloth beneath her fingertips. The lactic acids burning in her arm told her she would have to give up very soon.

Then the fabric began to crumple and slip. It was working. Millimetre by millimetre, Sarah was pulling more and more of the shirt towards her, all the time gaining momentum, almost enough for her to get a proper grasp.

Facing away from the corpse, Sarah couldn’t see the dead guards eyes flicker open. The words of encouragement ended abruptly and in the same instant a hand grabbed her. It grasped around her forearm just below the elbow.

Sarah turned and tried to pull away. The freshly resurrected zombie lurched forward, grabbing her arm with both hands. An excited gasp of air hissed out from its lips as it brought its gaping maw snapping down at Sarah’s flesh. Sarah felt a second pair of hands grab her but this time it was her other arm. Before the newly reanimated zombie could snap its teeth shut, she had been yanked free of its grasp and pulled deeper into the cell.

She looked up to see Bates towering above her, extending a hand down. She accepted his hand and he lifted her to her feet.

Sarah felt the strength in his muscles as he wrapped a supportive arm around her waist to steady her. She looked up into his eyes, grateful for her rescue. Her heart was hammering from the shock and she could still feel the impression of the zombie’s hands around her arm. All of the terror collapsed, dispelled by the presence of the man standing in front of her. She felt soothed by his closeness. He placed his right hand on her shoulder and slowly let it slip down her arm. His fingers gently raked their way down, past her elbow, down her forearm and onto her wrist, until his hand clasped hers.

Sarah couldn’t hold back the shudder that tingled through her or the soft gasp of air as he turned her hand over. Bates brought his left hand down the soft white skin of the underside of her forearm until his hands met. clasping Sarah’s between them.